Foreign Concepts
by ErikaHK
Summary: When the team first arrives on Milania, they are impressed with their level of accomplishment. The feeling soon fades when they discover how deep their xenophobia goes. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Foreign Concepts  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warnings:** Violence and torture  
**Word Count:** ~26,000 and 11 chapters  
**Genre:** Gen, H/C, Action, team friendship  
**Characters:** John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Teyla Emmagan, Ronon Dex and other cameos  
**Spoilers:** Set at the end of season five, but no specific spoilers  
**Disclaimer:** Stargate and its characters belong to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Inc. No infringements of rights is intented.  
**Beta:** Many thanks to **Frisco**. All remaining mistakes are mine.  
**Author's Note:** At last, posting time! This is the most elaborated fic I have written and the one that took most for me to write. It's a team-fic with plenty of whump for all, but heavily concentrated on a certain Lt. Col. Nothing new there, right? The full fic has 11 chapters, all finished and edited. I'll post daily until it's finished and I'm also working on a fic cover which will probably be ready on Sunday.

**Summary:** When the team first arrives on Milania, they are impressed with their level of accomplishment. The feeling soon fades when they discover how deep their xenophobia goes.

**FOREIGN CONCEPTS**

_By ErikaHK_

**Chapter 1**

John sniffed the air as he noticed something unlike the normal smog of the vehicles from Earth. It smelled like smoke, but slightly sweet, and it cast a yellowish tone to his surroundings. He looked around, taking in the perfectly circular plaza, the small brick constructions and the busy chatter of people going on with their business.

Ronon and Teyla were already beside him, also absorbing all the details of their new surroundings while Rodney stayed behind, complaining about pollution.

The gate was in the middle of a small commercial center that was covered with concrete and stone paving. There wasn't any vegetation, trees, bushes or even grass growing at the corners. Everything was perfectly clean and organized.

Men in uniforms were spread throughout the entire plaza. John rested his hands on his P90 and smiled as two of them approached at a slow and steady pace. The guards wore simple gray uniforms void of details. The small metal insignia over their shoulders and the caps on their heads were the only decoration that made them look official.

They stopped and bowed. "Welcome to Milania," one of the men said in a very serious voice. "I'm Officer Percle of the Outsider Visitors Managing Office. I need you to state your business on our world."

John smiled. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. This is Doctor Rodney McKay, Teyla Emmagan and Ronon Dex." He nodded at each team member. "I was told your people are looking for some new friends."

Officer Percle ignored the brief confused glance the other officer gave him. "I was informed that strangers would come in more frequently through the ring. You will need to sign the official papers to be allowed within our city. Our government office will want to speak to you."

"Just show us the way."

John followed as the two officers led them to a small concrete building close to the gate, the only construction in the entire plaza. Cold air from the inside blew in John's face and he coughed from the thin dust coming from the unpainted walls. It seemed like they had barely finished putting it up and were already making use of it. He stepped in, stopping in the middle of an almost empty room except for the single metal table and chair..

"Officer Ferbes will arrange the documents you need," Percle said from the doorway. "When you are done, I will be outside."

John was slightly uncomfortable with the close attention Ferbes was paying to the four of them, eyeing them up and down, not missing any detail. John glanced briefly at his team then tried to smile, unsure if it would be the right approach. Ferbes didn't show the slightest hint of pleasantry and continued to stare and frown.

"State your business," the man finally said, blunt and rude.

"Uh, we'd like to see someone in charge, talk to your government and see if we can be friends." John rested his arms over his weapon in a casual manner.

Ferbes nodded and started writing on the papers in front of him. After a few moments, he raised his head again.

"How long do you intend to stay?"

John thought for a second then waved his hand. "A few hours, maybe a day."

More scribbling. John raised an eyebrow at his team.

"Who informed you of our world?"

John tried to be pleasant and smiled again. "Some trading partners from Lena."

Ferbes' frown deepened. "Lena was culled."

"Yes, the survivors are living with some friends of ours. They said your people were kind enough to take in some of them, too."

The team had also been told about the Milanians' paranoia of strangers.

The officer's scowl deepened, but soon his normal frown was back. He wrote down more notes on the papers.

"What is the purpose of your weapons?"

John kept his hands on his hanging weapon and shifted his feet. "Can't be too careful out there. You never know what you're stepping in. But they are for defensive purposes only."

"You will have to leave them behind," Ferbes said as he lowered his head to write.

"I... would be much more comfortable keeping them."

John glanced at his team, not expecting to have to leave all their weapons in some alien idea of a customs office. Of course, guns made some people uncomfortable, but John would rather have that than the other way around.

Ferbes raised his head. "Then you will have to carry the term of responsibility over their use and let yourself and the others be under our code of law if they are used illicitly."

"Sure." John grinned.

"Here are your documents." The officer handed them four pieces of paper. "You will need to present them whenever they are requested. Failure to present your papers will result in immediate arrest."

John took the papers and gave one to each member of the team. "No problem."

He turned and left the room, and started walking over to Percle at the edge of the plaza.

"I don't know if all this bureaucracy is comforting or aggravating," Rodney said. "What difference does it make if we have some ordinary looking papers with some scribbling on them?"

John looked at the paper on his hand. "If it makes them feel comfortable..." He placed it inside a vest pocket.

"I think they simply don't like us."

John noticed how some people scowled when they passed by. "Well, they have reasons to be paranoid, Rodney. Their world is waving a giant sign with _'cull us'_ written on it." Still, it worried him to see how deep the paranoia about outsiders went.

"Yes, a sign being carried by a weird looking car that releases more smoke than an old jeep that hasn't seen oil for years."

John smiled at Rodney's remark. The car behind Percle _was_ weird looking. It was a cross between the trucks from the fifties and old classic carriages, completely painted white and without any other details except a door with no handle. John was mystified by whatever means Percle used to open it. John glanced at his team and followed Percle inside the vehicle.

The inside was a big open space with benches forming a 'U', and a lone seat in the front for the driver. John had to bend his head very low while standing and Ronon was so hunched it pained John's back to see it. They all sat next to each other, with Percle opposite them and the junior grade officer in the driver's seat.

The noise the car made while moving eliminated the hope of them having any kind of conversation. They traveled quietly, observing the buildings and movement on the streets while Percle stared at them from time to time. The houses were made of polished light brown bricks, and the streets were busy with people, mostly dressed in neutral browns. John didn't see any kind of decorations anywhere – no statues, paintings, or any bright colors. Everything was dull and a little depressing.

They drove for about twenty minutes, mostly in a straight line, making it easy for even Rodney to remember the way to the gate. They finally reached a more central part of the city, with taller buildings and people dressed in lighter colors. There was no mess, no disorder of any kind, and John had yet to see any children.

The car finally parked and the team climbed out. They were facing a tall white building that looked like a giant box with white walls and transparent glass windows.

Percle walked briskly then suddenly stopped and bowed his head in a quick motion. The tall woman facing him bowed her head graciously and smiled.

Percle stepped aside and presented them. "This is the chancellor's personal assistant, Kilaria. She will take you to see him."

John nodded. "I'm John Sheppard. This is Rodney McKay, Ronon Dex, Teyla Emmagan."

She straightened her long white dress and bowed slightly. "Welcome to Milania." She held her hands together in front of her. "This way, please, and I will take you to our chancellor." She stepped aside and waved them towards a corridor at the back of the large reception area. "We are looking forward to starting formal trading with other worlds."

The team followed her into a long corridor with a low ceiling and several closed doors.

"You have not had trading relations with other worlds?" Teyla asked while walking slightly behind John.

Kilaria didn't slow her pace or turn around. "No, so far our only need have been manpower for the most basic forms of labor, but we are self-sufficient in everything else."

"What's changed then?" John asked.

"We have heard of people that have a lot to offer beyond what we are capable of producing. It is hard finding worthy trading partners; all worlds seem to be stuck in their development and have very little to offer us."

John nodded. "We understand that perfectly, but even less developed worlds often have something worth checking out."

They reached a stairwell and started going up.

"There are too many risks in traveling through the ring, and our government has always found that the benefit is not sufficient. We like to keep to ourselves." She briefly turned to John and smiled.

"Hopefully, both of our peoples can benefit from this change of policy," Teyla said.

After two sets of stairs, they were in an identical corridor and followed it to the end, only a few meters ahead. There was a glass door and a large office beyond it. Kilaria led them inside and a tall man rose from behind his desk.

"This is Chancellor Kirple." Kilaria walked towards the chancellor and turned. "This is John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Ronon Dex and Teyla Emmagan, representatives of their people."

The chancellor was a middle aged man, with a few gray hairs shining among the black ones.

He bowed his head in a short move. "Welcome to Milania." He waved at some cushioned chairs around a long table and sat at the head. The team followed and sat down next to each other, followed by Kilaria who sat opposite them. "I was told that you learned about us from the Lenans. Is that correct?"

John folded his hands over the table in front of him. "That's right."

"Unfortunate fate their world suffered," the chancellor said in a tone that suggested it was a mere pleasantry rather than genuine concern. "We took some of them in as a way of starting our new ways of increasing our contact with other worlds."

"That was very kind of you, Chancellor Kirple." Teyla bowed her head politely.

"I imagined that keeping a good reputation would be of great importance when trading with foreign worlds. Perhaps even draw attention from likeminded people, such as yourselves." He kept his voice neutral and his tone even. "What people do you represent?"

"We are from Atlantis," John answered. "We have a lot of contact with other people, but we rarely find planets with your level of... accomplishment." He quirked one side of his lips.

"Yes, I think it rarely happens with the Wraith awakening so early this time, and the ones that manage to achieve technological advancement keep quiet out of fear." The chancellor leaned forward. "But I recently found that if we try to cooperate with each other, we could accomplish great things together. That is why I recently implemented a new governmental policy, a very risky one, to try to make new contacts."

"Why risky?" Rodney asked a little bluntly. "I mean," he said as he waved his hand, "of course you would be afraid to come forward and draw too much attention to yourself, but cooperation would mean benefits for both, including defensive purposes."

Kirple nodded. "And I agree with that. But the problem is that our people are somewhat stuck in their fears and are having difficulties accepting this sudden change." He turned to John. "We have been having problems integrating the Lenans into our society and even had some violent incidents regarding prejudice against offworlders."

John raised an eyebrow.

"That is why I decided to go several steps further and start immediate diplomatic talks and trade relations with other worlds. If my people see how beneficial this kind of relation can be, maybe they will open their eyes to the future."

John smiled. "Anything we can do to help. Just show us what you have to offer and what you need and we'll take it to our leader."

Chancellor Kirple breathed a sigh of relief. "Very well. I will first start with our needs, if that is acceptable to you."

John nodded.

"Our greatest concern at the moment is regarding medical knowledge. A grave problem struck our city after the arrival of the Lenans. Many of our people have fallen incredibly ill and many have died."  
John frowned slightly. "Really? What kind of disease?"

The chancellor cleared his throat. "It has symptoms similar to an illness we have in Milania, but much more aggravated than normal. Which is part of the problem, you see. Because it starts so similar to a common disease, many take their time in seeking medical help." He lowered his head briefly. "And when they do, it is already too late to have anything done."

"If you have any information about this disease for us to take to our doctor..." John said while waving his hand.

"I can do better," Kirple said. "I can take you to our healthcare center to show you personally." When Rodney opened his mouth, looking distressed, the chancellor hastily added. "It is not contagious if you do not touch the wounds directly."

"Uh, wounds?" Rodney stuttered.

"It causes blisters in the skin, a very common symptom from our Red Vernon Disease, but in time, these blisters rupture into bleeding wounds. Eventually the patient dies from blood loss."

John mentally agreed with the face Rodney made.

"Okay, this is what we are going to do," John started. "We are going to call our doctors and then we can go to this hospital. They can have a look at it and see if there is anything we can do to help. Then we talk about what you have to offer us. Deal?"

The chancellor rose to his feet. "Agreed."

###

Percle held his hands behind his back while he waited for Supreme Commander Dorr. The commander's office was large and heavily decorated with useless memories of the past. There were paintings on the walls, one on each, except for the back wall which had two. He wondered how the commander worked with such distractions around. Was he not disturbed by the dead eyes staring at him?

When the door behind him opened, Percle continued at attention and did not turn. Supreme Commander Dorr circled him and sat in the chair behind the desk. Percle let his eyes rest on the wall behind his commander.

"Sir."

Supreme Commander Dorr took his time before speaking. "Officer Percle. I have been informed of the strangers that came to Milania to talk to," he paused purposely, "the chancellor."

Percle lowered his head to look at his commander now that he was allowed. "Yes, Supreme Commander. I personally drove them to the Government Building."

"I was also informed that it was proposed that they heal Red Vernon Disease as part of an accord between both peoples."

Percle tried to hide his surprise, but could not help the scowl on his face. "That would be a problem, Supreme Commander."

"Yes, it would." The commander folded his hands over his desk. "We are too close to lose it all now. Things need to get worse before they improve. Only then will our people see how low the chancellor has gone and we will be able to stop this nonsense."

"I agree, sir."

"I will trust you, Officer Percle, to deal with the outsiders. Follow the laws of our Founding Fathers."

Percle nodded. "It will be my pleasure, Supreme Commander."

###

The four foreigners were already outside the Government Building when Percle arrived. He climbed out of the transport and walked over to them, one single nod inviting them in. They went inside without questioning.

The leader, Sheppard, always had a smile ready on his lips, trying so hard to be pleasant but accomplishing only revulsion from the citizens around him. The smile of an outsider. How could anyone trust it?

He was followed by the fat man who was living proof of how incapable of controlling their impulses the offworlders were. Everything about him was a testament to that – the way his hands moved, the way his eyes moved, the way he walked, the way he scowled when he saw something that didn't fit his strange ways.

Then the woman went in. She was small and showed too many of her body's curves. She bowed her head politely. She smiled pleasantly. A soldier. A female soldier. Percle couldn't be more repulsed.

The big man entered last. All harsh and impulsive. A man who acted before thinking. The hair was as big as the man. Staring at it only brought one word to Percle's mind. Unhygienic. Percle recognized the insignia on his neck and scowled. Their world had deserved that fate.

When Percle locked the door with the gas canister inside, he felt relief.  
After the strangers fell unconscious, Percle entered the transport and drove.

###

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

John woke up and had to hold back a groan as he sat up. He looked around, seeing himself inside a cell that was maybe 6 feet. He stood, walking to the metal jail bars on one side.

Finding no handle, he tested the bars with a strong yank and only felt a slight vibration from the action. He stuck an arm through to see how far his hand would reach. The corridor outside was twice the distance of his arm. He tried looking around, but didn't see much.

He turned and touched the cold, rough walls as he made his way to the tiny concrete bed, noticing the lack of sharp edges on each corner. He stepped on the thin mattress and peeked through the small window. It was a narrow gap and all John saw was a clouded sky and another dull building across a wide corridor outside.

He sat down on the bed. "Rodney, Ronon, Teyla?" he called out. When no response came, he tried again, louder. "Rodney, Ronon, Teyla?"

Nothing. They were probably in separate cells. Very smart of whomever had captured them.

"Anyone?"

He grunted at the silence and sat back down, wondering what these people could possibly want with him. The last thing he remembered was entering that weird car and being locked inside with a gas grenade. He remembered trying to get out, banging on the windows and door then the world slowly tilting away.

It had been that gate officer from earlier.

There hadn't been a driver in the car when they had entered, and John had wondered if Percle would be driving them. Well, now he knew. He tried to understand why the Milanians had kidnapped them and why only after leaving the building.

A loud metal screech made John snap his head up. The bars were now open. He frowned when nobody showed up to either rescue him or to take him somewhere else.

Alert and ready to jump at the slightest hint of a threat, John stepped out of the cell, surprised to find no one there.

His cell was the last one with only a wall to his right. To his left, four other identical cells, all empty, and a door at the end. He tried the handle on the door, and stepped back when it opened. It took him to another corridor with the same look and feel, but slightly darker and with no windows. There weren't any cells, but it had several identical metal doors. He tested them one by one, and found them all locked.

All except one. The corridors had one door on each end; one was locked, but not the other. Knowing that he was being led somewhere made him more alert, and he took his time to step into the other room.

Also empty. It was a large room, with a long bench on one side, and showers that looked like very tall taps. The only thing inside was a small pile of gray clothes on the middle of the bench.

"Am I supposed to shower and change now?" he asked the walls. "You know, prisons often have guards telling you what to do and stuff..."

When no response came, John walked to the clothes to check for possible uses, like perhaps choking one of the invisible guards.

He was barely halfway there, when a slight ruffling noise made him turn around.

Five men in black uniforms approached him steadily. They were big and sneered at him as they curled their hands into fists. John coiled and stiffened when the door shut.

The five men surrounded him quickly. One of them smirked as he rubbed his fist.

One moment they were all frozen and coiled. The next, John was being held by four of them while the smirking guard punched him hard in the gut. Breath knocked out of him, John tried doubling over, but was prevented from moving by the fierce grip on his arms and legs. He coughed then gagged when the fist connected to the same area again.

And again.

And again.

He fell to his knees, gasping for air when the guards let go of him.

They didn't stop. A punch to his temple darkened his vision for a few moments. He slowly fell to the side. Then kicks and more kicks prevented him from getting up.

A hard boot to his sternum. Another to his coccyx. A sole to his back. Two hard tips to his stomach, his chest....

He barely had a break to try to curl into a ball.

John opened his eyes to slits when they stopped and saw the five guards smirking. He inhaled sharply when he saw a blade in one of their hands closing to his side. The four other men held him down while he jerked, turned and kicked.

Their grip was fierce and soon John couldn't move anymore. His breathing accelerated as the cold knife touched his skin then came up in one swift move. Fabric ripped and cold air hit his body. The blade sliced his shirt and BDUs into useless strips of cloth.

He stared into the eyes of the one who appeared to be the lead guard, fire burning in John's eyes. The man smiled and kicked John's head.

When John opened his eyes again, the guards were nowhere to be seen and the pile of clothes was tossed on the floor in front of him.

He sat up, holding back a cry of pain when his body yelled that he was one giant bruise. He looked at himself, wincing at the bleeding wounds and the darkening marks under all the holes and slices on his clothes.

_'That's great, John. You've got prison guards picking on you.'_

One of the showers turned on by itself and that was John's cue to use it. He took another look at himself, got up slowly then got under the water. The freezing cold water.

He removed what was left of his uniform then cleaned each of the cuts, ignoring all the stings and trying his best not to groan. He was almost finished with the last patch of blood on a particularly hard area to reach when the water stopped. He rolled his eyes and put on the gray prison robes. They were plain and boring like all the other clothes these people liked.

The metal door opened again and the five guards entered. John stiffened and stared into their eyes. They stepped aside and the leader tilted his head out. John walked slowly, trying not to show his limp. He remained alert, ready to defend himself if they decided to use him as a kicking bag again.

They didn't. They accompanied John back to his cell without touching him.

"Do you guys at least have names?" John asked simply to break the silence.

There was no response.

"Okay, what about Curly, Larry, Moe and..."

They kicked his legs and made him trip.

He soon recovered his footing and stopped by the doorway of his cell. "Don't like that? What about Bart, Homer--"

He was kicked on his legs and pushed inside, ending up face down on the bed. Before he could get up, a fierce grip on the back of his neck kept his head down. He jerked and flapped his hands around to get away, but was soon held by the other men. His chest heaved, but no air came. John gasped lungfuls of mattress and another hand pushed his head down. He opened his mouth, but inhaled nothing more than fibers from the fabric. For a moment, the only thing he felt was the hammer in his chest first getting stronger, then slowing down. His extremities tingled then numbed; his chest burned and tightened. Soon, his body sagged and the lack of air seemed unimportant compared to the irresistible urge to sleep.

###

Kirple stood and crossed the distance between him and Commander Dorr, the paper on his hand crumpling with his tight hold.

"What's the meaning of this?" Kirple narrowed his eyes.

Dorr quirked one side of his lip. "I think the meaning is clear in the report."

"Commander, I highly doubt those people had ill intentions. In fact--"

"That's the problem, Kirple!" Dorr said as he stepped forward, now standing a mere inch away from Kirple's face. "You have too much faith in strangers! But I stand by my officer's word. _They_ made the first move!"

"Why would they attack without provocation? Why would they come to my office and offer help if violence was what they intended all along?" Kirple returned the same tone and didn't back off, even when Dorr sneered and narrowed his eyes.

"Who can know how the mind of an outsider works? Who in sane conscience would trust a foreigner's actions? The mere thought of allowing people like that into our land, let alone _this_ office could be enough to result in immediate arrest!"

"Is that a threat?"

"Make no mistake, Kirple. Your popularity has dropped like a rock ever since those revolting Lenans were allowed to poison our people. One tiny crack and I can have you removed." Dorr turned around brusquely and left.

###

Teyla woke up inside the same cell she had found herself in the previous day. She placed a hand to her head as she sat up and exhaled slowly to dull the ache there. Her hand slid down to her cheek and she frowned when it met a tender spot there. She cradled her slightly swollen arm and closed her eyes as she remembered the cries and yells.

She had risen to her feet and had run to her opponent, but only the floor had greeted her. They were many and they were strong. She had had no chance. Teyla had stared at the guards' eyes with fire burning in hers.

The guards had seen her furious look as they beat another woman. Deciding that Teyla's actions required punishment, they had dragged a small woman from her cell

Dragged her where?

while Teyla pleaded for them to stop. That had only driven them further.  
They had twisted Teyla's arm behind her back and pressed her face against the bars to watch as they beat another woman in her place.

Teyla opened her eyes and exhaled slowly, hoping it would take the sting away from her eyes.

She hadn't seen her team yet. She knew they would find each other though she worried for them. Were they in a similar cell? Were they receiving similar treatment? Were they all right?

Her cell door opened and snapped her out of her thoughts. She stared at the man outside. He almost smiled then looked at someone in the corridor beyond her sight. Teyla didn't need to see. She knew who the guard was looking at.

Without looking down or taking her eyes away from his, Teyla walked out. She stood in line. When the line of women started walking, Teyla followed.

They went to the same shower room that Teyla had been taken the previous day. The women did not undress. They took turns and washed their faces, hands and feet then lined up in front of another door.

One of the guards hit a woman with the back of his hand. Teyla reacted and stepped forward. A hand held her. When she looked back, she saw the woman that had been beaten the previous night. The woman had an eye swollen shut; she shook her head, begging with her eyes.

Teyla turned her head back to the scene. The guard stood and the fallen woman trembled. The guard moved away and the woman remained.

Teyla had never felt so helpless. All the women looked down and avoided the men's eyes.

Except for Teyla.

###


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Rodney woke up before the sun. For a moment he had expected to find himself in Atlantis.

A short-lived happiness.

He rose to his feet and groaned about giant bruises and barbaric prison guards. He touched his face and winced at the cut there.

The bars opened and Rodney stepped back instead of out.

Another stupid move. The guards stormed into his cell and grabbed his arm, right where his greatest bruise was, to drag him out. He crashed to the floor over their lack of gentleness. He grunted and cursed as he got up.

"You people--"

The guard eyed him with a fist raised.

Rodney shut up.

When the line started walking, Rodney followed, unsure of what would happen next.

Guards hovered. Rodney swallowed, alert to every move they made, even though he avoided looking at them.

They went to the shower room. The prisoners stayed in line, going around the walls and using the single shower that was turned on to wash their face and hands. After they were done, they lined up behind the other door.

The door opened and they stepped inside. It was a room as big as the shower room, but it had tables and chairs all over. On one end, a large table had two giant metal pots. The men lined up and served themselves.

The guards kicked some of the prisoners in the back of their legs when they passed by. Rodney tensed when he got near them. The lead guard eyed him directly. Rodney stared before he came back to himself and resumed looking down.

When he passed by unharmed, he sagged in relief.

Rodney looked at the food. The first pot had a cereal that looked a lot like oatmeal, and the other one had water. At least that was what Rodney thought. He took a bowl and dipped it in each one, imitating the other men.

He held himself from complaining about the lack of spoons. Instead he simply huffed. How the hell was he supposed to eat?

After drinking their food, they were all escorted out. More long gray corridors and guards picking on people. Rodney stayed clear of their jokes. They stopped in a small room with a huge pile of chains. Rodney swallowed hard, imagining what kind of torture would come from this. The prisoners started picking the chains up and locking themselves around their wrists and ankles. Rodney glanced at one of the guards, then hurried to imitate when the guard started coming to his direction. He fumbled with the chains and cuffs, and cursed when nobody seemed to care enough to help him. He glanced up once more, panicking about the group of men walking towards him. Finally, he was able to lock himself up, and let his arms drop from the weight.

He really hoped Atlantis would come soon. He also wished his team could be there with him. What the hell had happened to them?

The corridor ended in a large courtyard surrounded by identical buildings, all limited by a very tall concrete wall. Rodney's legs dragged the chains towards the last building. It had a large entrance and the inside was only one huge warehouse. Rodney walked past several trucks larger than the one the team had been in earlier while dirty men loaded them with wooden crates. They continued further, where a group of prisoners was filling the crates with some kind of mineral. It looked like some kind of dark metal, but Rodney couldn't be certain.

Rodney swallowed dry. Forced labor wasn't really his strength. Rodney looked around, wide eyed, thinking about a dark period of the history of Earth and the places there that still held these kinds of working conditions. He never imagined himself actually being in one.

On the back wall, a small door led him to a mine, with men coming and going inside, bringing full buckets and taking them back in empty. The lighting came from weak lamps that only showed shadows of dirty men. The way down was slippery and the chains made walking difficult. Rodney limped slightly from a bruise on his thigh and nearly slid in the mud all the way down.

A fierce grip on his arm made Rodney jump and hiss in pain.

He was dragged away from the main group to another side corridor. Rodney tried to control his breathing, now worrying about the amount of fresh air a mine like this could have in addition to the panic of being dragged through a dark passage by a barbaric prison guard. The air was hot and heavy with sweat and the sour smell of minerals. He was about to argue against this treatment of geniuses when he was tossed to the ground and almost hit his head on a big machine at the end of the corridor.

He raised his head and snapped. "What the hell do you people want from me?" he shouted.

The man raised his fist. Rodney didn't recoil.

"Yes, right, you are just dumb brutes that beat down your working force until they are no longer capable of being useful!" The fist came down. Rodney grunted and raised his head again. "I just want to know what you want," he cried. Another hit. Rodney felt the taste of blood. He raised his head again. "Are you just going to beat me unconscious again? Is that it? Bang my head around until my brain is just a pile of mush?"

The guard smirked. He removed a long stick from inside his suit and it sparked with electricity. When the tip touched him, Rodney thought his muscles would snap as he convulsed in pain. His jaw clenched, his breathing stopped and his back arched to an impossible angle. He wanted to scream, but nothing in his body worked. Pain penetrated every single cell of his body until he was left shaking on the ground.

Only two words came from the guard's mouth as he waved at the machine. "Fix it."

###

Ronon's eyes snapped open and he was sitting up before he was fully awake. The place was dimly lit, but he noticed he wasn't in the same cell. As he rose to his feet, he groaned at his arm, limp and painful beside him. He walked over to a wall and held a scream inside his throat as he set his shoulder back into place.

Not caring to look over all the other bruises on his body, he glanced around. He didn't see any bars. He walked around the concrete walls until he got to a heavy metal door. It had no handle and Ronon wasn't able to pry it open. He turned and walked towards the transparent glass window, ready to smash it.

"You wouldn't want to do that," a voice said over the screech of the metal door . "Unless you want his punishment to be worse than it will already be."

Ronon turned, anger burning within him as he recognized the man. It was the gate officer who had taken them to the city. He crossed the distance between them and towered over the smaller man.

"What are you talking about?"

The man smiled. "I'm talking about him." He shifted his gaze to the glass window.

Ronon turned around as lights turned on and showed an identical room on the other side of the window except for a chair at the center of it and a person sitting on it. Even facing his back, Ronon recognized him. Sheppard was tied to the chair's metal frame.

Ronon barely contained his anger when he turned to the small man. "What did you do to him?"

The man slowly walked to the glass then looked in the other room. "You have fire, Satedan. And I wouldn't expect anything else from a race such as yours. But I know how to put it out. A very effective method against outsiders from your scorched world." He turned and Ronon resisted the urge to hit him. "For every single punch to my guards, for every single sneer and for every act of stubbornness against doing what they order, i_he_/i will get it five times worse." The man walked towards Ronon, speaking slowly but with an edge of aggression. "If you leave any more of my guards unconscious, I will make it ten. Ten times worse. For each one." His expression turned to full on anger. "You can be stupid enough to keep going, and things will only escalate further. You will watch every single twitch of pain that will be inflicted upon him."

Ronon was shaking with a rage he was barely able to contain. It was only the sight of Sheppard, and the man approaching his chair, that made Ronon hold the fist that wanted to smash the officer's face.

Ronon couldn't hear Sheppard as it began. And he didn't have to.

###

John clenched his teeth, unable to control his own muscles. His back arched and stiffened, prevented from bending more by the chair and the straps holding his chest. Electricity surged from the frame itself and touched his whole body, penetrating and burning. His nails dug inside his hand as his body convulsed.

He was on fire. His muscles grew rigid, all contracted at once. Wetness covered his face.

The pain worsened. Breathing came hard. The convulsions increased until he couldn't move anymore.

###

Kirple rubbed his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he opened his eyes again, they still felt as sandy as they had been before. He looked down at the papers on his desk and sighed as he continued to read the reports. The words danced and blurred before they settled and the extra hours reading were making his eyes water.

That's what he told himself.

It had nothing to do with numbers, and deaths, and executions. And it certainly had nothing to do with Dorr.

"You should rest, Chancellor." Kilaria's voice startled him.

He looked up at her. "That's what got me in this situation in the first place," he said grimly. "Too blind. Too stupid to see it." He sighed. "How could I ever think that men like Dorr would accept my lead into the future?"

"I think you are too kind, Chancellor, if you will forgive my honesty. You should confront him publicly."

Kirple narrowed his eyes. "You don't really mean that."

She shrugged. "Just an idea. If you have faith that our people are ready for change, then you should show it to him. Show that you have followers backing you up."

Kirple let his chin touch his chest. "Maybe." He looked up and smiled. "Well, if you feel that way, why don't you come up with some numbers? We should be able to find a good place for a public appearance. You can write the speech."

Kilaria smiled briefly, but quickly hid it under a serious tone.

"Yes, Chancellor," she said before leaving.

Kirple watched her as she left. It was about time he gave her a chance to do more important tasks.

###

Teyla watched the first light of day coming from the window. She had tried meditating, but could not reach a higher state of spirit. She was restless. She caught her mind wandering, thinking about her teammates.

They were probably receiving a similar treatment. She knew they were strong enough to endure, but she knew they would be much stronger if they had been placed together. Not knowing what was happening to the others was far worse than any kind of torture.

She cradled her swollen arm, rubbing the sore spot. She was sure it was not broken as she had not felt any unusual bends on the bone, but it was badly twisted.

She took a deep breath and prepared herself for the day.

When the bars opened, she was ready to exit and form the line. The guards eyed her and smirked. She wanted to hurt them. But they had far worse means of hurting her. And they did not need any other excuse to mistreat the women.

They followed the same routine as the previous day.

Every time a woman dropped to the ground, Teyla felt her skin itching. Sometimes she flinched. Sometimes she coiled. Sometimes the woman behind her would just look.

Until the woman spoke.

"That won't do us any good."

Her voice sounded stronger than she looked. She was smaller than Teyla, a little younger too. Her skin was darker, and her hair long, curly and black. Her eye was still swollen.

"What is your name?" Teyla asked.

"Milin," the woman whispered. "Yours?"

"I am Teyla."

When Milin saw a guard approaching, she dipped her head low and, with a look, urged Teyla to do the same. Teyla tensed as he slowed down by their sides.

When he grabbed Teyla's swollen arm, she almost wept tears of pain. She reached with her other arm and twisted his hand. He released her with a grunt and Teyla could have burned him with her glare. Another guard came and Teyla slowly let go of the first's hand. Both men grabbed a rod from within their suits and made it spark.

###

Rodney sucked the tip of his thumb. He raised his head again, words flowing out without his control.

"I already told you! Hitting me won't fix the stupid machine. It is broken! Hopeless. If you are lucky you will need a dozen new parts, probably a whole new thing!"

The guard raised his hand again and Rodney flinched.

He was hit in the very same place. The giant bruise would probably never heal. Rodney grunted in frustration and continued.

"Look, I don't know what you expect me to say. It's the truth, whether you like it or not. Or do you think I enjoy being abused until I'm a heap on the ground?" When the guard only kept his hand raised without bringing it down, Rodney continued, slower this time. "It was old, and maintenance was poor. Something should have been done sooner. Like changing the oil from time to time."

The guards looked at each other and one of them nodded. One left, returning a few seconds later. He was dragging a squirming man by his arm. He was small, dirty and the chains looked too big on his ankles and wrists.

"Were you responsible for this ventilator?" the guard asked.

The little man nodded shyly.

The guard brought his hand down so hard, the man dropped down on the ground, blood coming out of his mouth. The other guard took out his sparking stick.

The man screamed. He screamed and cried and yelled. He convulsed in pain. He crawled away only to have another rod joining the first one.

Rodney couldn't do anything but watch in horror.

###

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Dorr took the paper from the hand offering it to him and read it, without looking at the officer's face.

"Who shot it?" Dorr asked.

"Officer Ferbles, sir. The alien machine is non-operational, although I recommend that it be removed from a public area."

Dorr finally looked up. "It is no longer a public area. You should know that."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." The young officer nodded.

"Are the defenses in place?"

"They have been since last night, when you ordered, sir."

"Very well." Dorr scribbled down his name on the paper and delivered it back. "To the archive," he said.

The boy frowned slightly and cleared his throat. "Shouldn't this be taken to Chancellor--"

"The chancellor has nothing to do with outsider threats. This is a purely military situation."

The officer nodded. "Yes, sir!" He turned around and left.

###

It was morning again and Ronon still paced the small confines of his cell. The gray clothes they had given him were tight around his body and almost made moving around too difficult.

His anger still boiled within him. Anger at their captors. Anger at himself. Anger for what they had done to Sheppard. Anger for reacting to the officer and for having made it worse for his friend.

Anger for seeing Sheppard sagging and being dragged unconscious.

Being imprisoned was more than being locked up. It was being controlled. Ronon wasn't good at it. And Sheppard would be the one to pay the price each time Ronon forgot rule number one.

Ronon approached the bars as he heard the footsteps. He didn't react when the door opened. When the guard came and glared, Ronon stepped into line and glared back.

The line moved towards the wash room. Slowly.

Some prisoners walked low. Broken. Conditioned. The low heads saying that their wills had been beaten.

Others weren't as docile.

Some of them glared. Their steps slow but calculated. Heavy and proud. Muscles ready to snap if a guard touched them.

But not for long. Each time a guard caught one glaring the wrong way, they simply turned to the closest prisoner and used the electric rod.

The prisoner fell, shaking for several seconds, body convulsing and drool coming out of his mouth. His back looked like it would break. Just like Sheppard's had looked the night before.

They pretended to look down.

Ronon saw their tense shoulders telling him what he needed. They still had their pride.

If it was hard for them, it was even harder for Ronon. The one who would be receiving the treatment wouldn't be simply some unknown inmate. It would be a close friend. The man responsible for giving Ronon a new place to call home.

Ronon almost reached out to the guard next to him when he thought about it.

Ronon washed when he was told to. He ate when he was told to. He glared as he swallowed the food. He watched their every move.

He locked the chains around his ankles and wrists and crossed the courtyard. They watched. They kicked some men for being too slow. They picked on the smaller ones and prodded when they didn't increase their pace.

He entered the big warehouse. Big trucks were being loaded with heavy crates and men loaded the crates with mineral. Dirty prisoners came from the small doorway at the back carrying full buckets. They dumped the rocks on a big pile and went back down the dark corridor.

When they gave him the bucket to fill, he took it and followed the line into the mine.

###

John spent half the day pretending he could work just fine. He had bleeding marks on his wrists, and the parts which weren't exposed flesh, were burned. His ankles were about the same mess. Putting his boots back on had been a nightmare. But he hadn't been too keen on making a mess of his soles by walking barefoot.

Carrying his bucket was hard. His whole body was sore, his muscles hurt as if he had gone through a marathon sparring session with Ronon without stopping. When he carried the rocks, his wrists burned and his feet hurt from going up the slippery muddy ramp, his boots scratching the raw flesh on his ankles. He wasn't looking forward to seeing their condition by the end of the day. He wasn't sure if he would be able to peel them off his feet.

He had walked part of the mine and still hadn't seen anyone from his team. Asking the guards didn't produce any answers. It just made them shock him some more. He had defended himself when he had the opportunity, but ended up being responsible for the guards beating down some unlucky prisoner who happened to be walking past.

So now, mostly, he tried staying clear of the guards' bad sides. But sometimes he couldn't help himself. He couldn't simply watch them mistreating someone. Whether these prisoners were guilty of something or just as innocent as he was, the guards were torturing defenseless people who didn't react out of fear. John had shouted and tried to talk some sense into them. He had tried getting in their way so they would get distracted with him and release the half-conscious prisoner on the ground. But it didn't work. Nothing ever worked.

The prisoners never said anything. When John had tried asking some questions, he was either ignored or met with apprehension.

All that was left was to keep going. No complaining, no grunting, no hissing each time the dirt got under the loose skin on his hands.

Just work.

No glaring and no questioning.

Not being a smartass was particularly difficult. But the guards made their point a few times over and John learned that the best way to help the people around him was by simply keeping to himself.

###

Teyla scrubbed the floor one handed, the other arm held closely to her chest. The women had been taken to the other buildings, each corridor of prisoners going to a different one. Then, they were separated to smaller groups, each responsible for a different room. Half of Teyla's group was washing the shower room, and half was cleaning the mess hall and cooking.

Teyla wondered if all the buildings were identical, and if each group of prisoners had a different task. The women seemed to be responsible for cleaning and cooking. Teyla wondered where the men were taken.

She also wondered why these people had been arrested. Were they all innocent victims like herself?

A crash made Teyla snap her head around. A young woman trembled as she picked up the contents of the pan she had dropped. Teyla went to help as fast as she could, trying to get there before the guard.

She did not.

The guard kicked the girl several times, his eyes bright with anger. Teyla silently prayed to the Ancestors, hoping she was making the right decision. She intercepted the guard's leg with her own, preventing the last kick from getting through.

He was not as tall as the other guards, and much younger. He glared at Teyla.

"Is it easier to beat a young girl than someone as tall as you?" Teyla challenged him.

His face closed on hers. "I shall enjoy both."

Maybe defending herself was not the best decision. But she did so anyway. When his hand came up to meet her face, Teyla reacted and easily blocked the move. She could have held his arm and flipped him around to throw him down on the floor, but she did not.

He narrowed his eyes and reached inside his suit. She knew what came next. When the rod came up, Teyla held a tall stance, even though she lowered her arm. She could have easily taken the baton from him to give him a taste of his own weapon, but instead, she accepted the punishment herself instead of another.

With her eyes, she challenged him to come. And he did.

Her muscles tensed and went rigid the moment the tip touched her skin. He stopped, making her muscles relax and she fell on the floor.

He touched her again, this time uninterrupted. She arched her back and clenched her teeth. She held her breath then released it. She squeezed her eyes and closed her fists until her nails were carving into her skin, but she did not scream.

When he felt he had enough entertainment, he stopped, glared at her one last time and went back to his corner.

Teyla sat up and held her arm as it throbbed in agony. The young woman knelt beside Teyla, her eyes red and wet.

"Y-you... you..." She looked down. "I'm so sorry!" Tears ran down her cheeks and she ducked her face again.

Teyla lowered her head to look at the young woman and lifted her chin gently. "There is no need to apologize." The girl trembled under Teyla's touch. "i_He_/i was wrong, and not you." The girl remained silent, but her face relaxed slightly. "What is your name?"

She looked up. "Bina."

Teyla smiled. "I am Teyla," she said while she helped Bina pick up the fallen objects. "Let me." Teyla took the big, heavy pan and laid it on the table. She turned to look at Bina. "Are you from Milania?" she asked with a lower voice.

The teen looked around before answering. "No, I'm from Lena," she whispered.

"Are many people here from Lena as well?" Teyla pretended to work while she talked softly.

Bina turned her back to the guards and pretended to work, too. "Yes, many. We are accused of being disease bringers. The others are from many other worlds. No one from Milania itself."

"How long have you been here?" Teyla watched over her shoulder, careful to not draw attention.

Bina looked down. "I do not know." She lowered her voice and Teyla almost had to lean closer. "Many months."

Teyla heard the low chatter from the guards stop and decided not to risk talking. They continued their task together, in silence.

###

Rodney grunted as he finished pulling the old ventilator from the pipe it had been connected to. His shoulders sagged and he panted as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He risked a glance behind and found both guards staring at him.

He waved his arms nervously. "I'll change the ventilator to the new one." He nodded. "It won't take too long."

The guards remained silent. Rodney looked around then turned to continue his work. He stared at the machine for a few seconds, gathering his strength to push it into place.

Sweat dropped from his brow as he made the large ventilator slide on the rocky ground. His clothes were drenched and his face red by the time he was finished. He paused to look at the work. Checking the pipes would require powering up the machine, so Rodney decided to start by seeing if the wiring wasn't stupidly connected.

He rolled his eyes when he found an imminent short circuit. Rodney went over to the old ventilator and pulled the wiring and motherboard from it. He used the parts in the new one, and when he was done, he still had the intact board and a lot of wires in good conditions.

It would be a pity to waste this material.

Looking around nervously, Rodney moved slightly behind the ventilator. He swallowed and breathed deep before digging a hole on the ground. Then, he dropped the good parts inside and covered them with dirt.

###

TBC…


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Ronon dropped the contents of his bucket onto the pile of minerals. Some men chose to slowly remove the rocks and rest for a few seconds, but Ronon saw no point in risking his luck like that. He started back to the mine, but snapped around when a familiar groan reached his ears.

Two guards were taking turns kicking and shocking a man curled on the floor. A loud grunt came and Ronon immediately recognized the spiky hair as the head shot up from the electricity. It was Sheppard.

Ronon growled and crossed the distance between him and the guards, the heavy chains not slowing his pace.

###

John came back to consciousness, as two guards sneered and reached down to grab him. Not really feeling up to it, John sagged in their arms. The guards let him fall and kicked his chest once.

He had a few seconds of relief from the torture before he heard the sparking of their cattle prod. But instead of pain, John heard a soft groan coming from behind him.

When John opened his eyes again, both guards were gone and the sound of two pain sticks buzzed behind him. John squeezed his eyes as he turned around, hiding the moans that threatened to escape his lips. The buzzing increased as John opened his eyes again.

A blurry shape slowly came into focus – Ronon curled around his chest, screaming and convulsing as electricity shot through his body. Ronon's white teeth were clenched as saliva flew from his mouth, eyes squeezed shut and sweat covered his face. A third rod joined in and forced Ronon's back to an acute angle, the screaming muffled by the muscles that contracted all over his body.

Then, they stopped.

Unable to hide his shock, John waited for Ronon to open his eyes. When he did, he watched John for a few moments before turning hate-filled eyes to the guards that had multiplied while John had been unconscious.

"Back to work, both of you!"

John felt a light brush on his feet, then a mock kick on his back as the numerous soldiers passed by him on their way back to their posts. He locked gazes with one passing by his head, then turned and saw Ronon already on his feet, moving to help John up.

John tried to do most of the getting up himself, but failed miserably. Ronon tightened his hold on John and pushed him up against a wall.

"Thanks, buddy," John said, short of breath.

"How you feeling?

John did a mental check over his body and what he came up with wasn't all that different than what he felt before, but he figured his hair must be a bit more spiky than usual.

"I'm good."

John saw Ronon's incredulous look and agreed that he wouldn't believe himself either. He tried to make his point by pushing away from the wall and from Ronon's hold. When he continued in a mostly upward position, he smirked.

"See? I can even stand up on my own."

"That's not funny, you know."

John nodded. "Yes." He took in a few deep breaths and swallowed a wince. "But, there isn't much we can do about it besides... well, going back to slave work."

John took one step ahead and was glad he didn't fall over, but still felt Ronon's hand hovering around his body.

"How are they treating you?" John asked.

Ronon shrugged. "Better than they're treating you."

John smiled. "Glad to hear it." John leaned down to pick up his bucket. He saw Ronon doing the same. "Seen Rodney and Teyla?" John asked after he caught his breath.

"No. You?"

John shook his head. "They must be here somewhere."

Ronon lowered his head to pass through the entrance of the mine. "I don't know how you're working, but I'm going to a different part of the mine each time I empty my bucket. You know, looking for them. And for you."

"I was doing the same. We should trade information about the sites we covered," John said more softly to avoid the echoes inside the mine.

Ronon tilted his head to a quieter corner and John followed. Once they were isolated enough, they crouched, pretending to be mining near the ground. John held the side of his chest as he started drawing the corridors he had explored. Ronon completed the map with his own findings and when they were finished, they discovered that their explorations didn't overlap, the reason they hadn't seen each other. But there was still over half of the mine left to go.

"Okay, we should split up to cover the rest quicker," John said as his finger traced a line dividing the remaining area to explore into two sections. "I'll cover this area, and you cover this one." He looked up.

"You sure you can handle things on your own?"

"Don't worry, all right? I don't have plans for getting any more beat up than I already am. Besides, they seem to love that electric thing more and more these days."

"When do we meet again?"

John erased the drawings. "Here, near the end of the day. We need time to gather the intel."

"Got it."

###

Teyla scrubbed the floor of the shower room with both hands. Her injured arm was still a little sore, but the swelling had diminished and she could bend her arm without the pain spiking. Beside her, Milin and Bina worked silently.

Teyla looked over her shoulder from time to time, watching the guards. She had made a mental list of questions to ask the women, but ever since she had talked to Bina that first time, she had not had another opportunity to speak to them.

When the guards appeared to be out of range, Teyla crawled closer to Milin.

"Do you know where the men work?" she whispered.

Milin nodded. "They are taken to the mines."

Bina's small frame approached Teyla. "We can only go there when on water duty," the girl said softly.

"When does that happen?" Teyla asked.

Both women shook their heads. "Jobs rotate, but we don't know how long until we can go there again," Milin whispered.

Teyla glanced at the guards, then back to Milin. "Do all the men work in the mines?"

They looked at each other and shook their heads. "We don't know," Milin said.

When the doors burst open, Teyla crawled away from Milin and Bina and split her focus between scrubbing and observing what was going on at the entrance. Two guards dragged an unconscious man who left a trail of blood behind. They dropped the man roughly, then turned to Teyla's group of women.

"Tend to him!" one of the guards shouted.

Teyla promptly stood and went over to the man. The guards left and Teyla crouched next to him, gently turning his head. She gasped as she saw John's face half covered in blood.

###

Rodney dragged his chains as he followed his chaperon guard, wondering where he would work that day. He looked around the large deposit attentively, trying to see if his team was there. Dirty men carried their buckets and it was hard to see their faces under all the slime. Not that Rodney would need to see Sheppard's or Ronon's faces; he would immediately recognize their hair.

He hadn't had that much luck so far.

The guard came to a sudden halt and Rodney bumped against his back. Rodney swallowed thickly under the glare, but kept eye contact.

"Fix it!"

It appeared that was all the guards could say.

Rodney shook his head and waved a hand towards the big truck. "What's wrong with it?"

"That's for you to find out."

The guard promptly headed to his permanent post to watch over Rodney's shoulder.

"Great," Rodney said under his breath. "Fix it! How can I fix something if I don't know what the problem is?"

He huffed loudly and leaned over the open engine at the back of the vehicle.

###

Ronon's skin glittered with sweat as he finished loading a crate onto a truck. He wiped a hand on his forehead and started another one. The dark mineral stained his clothes and the skin on his arms, making him look like he had worked in that mine for years.

"I am trying to figure out how this thing works first!"

The familiar voice made Ronon snap his head around.

"I'm tired of your excuses!" a guard shouted before taking a rod from his belt and making it spark.

Ronon saw Rodney flinch as the guard touched him with the tip of the cattle prod. Rodney groaned and convulsed, his body shaking violently.

Ronon crossed the distance to the opposite end of the deposit and held the guard up by his neck, supporting him against a wall. The guard's legs dangled and kicked while his face went red, then purple.

Ronon's body froze when two pain sticks touched his back. The pain eased for a moment, then increased, making Ronon fall to his knees, holding a scream inside his clenched teeth.

The pain stopped as suddenly as it had started, and Ronon slowly slumped to the ground. Ronon opened his eyes and saw a pair of shiny black boots in front of him.

"No need for more pain. This one will get another form of punishment."

Ronon raised his head and saw officer Percle smirking at him. Ronon held down his urge to bolt up and grab the officer by the collar and simply got back on his feet, glaring.

"Everyone back to work." Percle turned and left, his hands behind his back.

The guards nodded once and went back to their posts, watching over the prisoners from some distance. Ronon turned his attention to Rodney.

"You okay?" Ronon asked softly.

"I've been abused by brute prison guards and forced to do slave work. What do you think?"

Ronon smiled. "Seen the others?"

Rodney shook his head. "No. You?"

"Saw Sheppard yesterday, but he didn't go back to the place we agreed. Haven't seen him since." Ronon shook his head. "He didn't look so good."

"Why?" Rodney asked and leaned closer to keep away from some passing prisoners. "What was wrong with him?"

Ronon glanced around briefly. "They're being really rough on him."

Rodney leaned in closer. "Look, we need to get out of here." He crouched under the truck and grabbed a something from the ground. "I have a plan, but I don't have time to explain. Take this." Rodney gave Ronon the strange looking engine piece. "There is a ventilator at the end of the first corridor on the right. Dig a hole behind it and bury it there with the rest."

Ronon stared at the part for a few moments.

"Go. Before they decide to see what's going on," Rodney urged.

Ronon tucked the part inside his pants and went back to work.

###

John moaned. He turned his head to the side and felt something soft supporting it. His breath hitched when he felt a touch that made his pain spike. He turned abruptly as a soothing voice shushed him.

The touching stopped.

"John, it's Teyla."

He opened his eyes. "Teyla?"

She was smiling gently down at him as her hand touched his cheek. "Yes, John."

"Wha-what happened?" He narrowed his eyes to focus on her. "Are you okay?" he asked, breathless.

She nodded. "You have to tell me where it hurts."

He groaned when the touching to his body resumed. Cold water on his skin made him shudder. He tried to turn away, but was held down by Teyla.

"Shhh, John. You have to let us clean your wounds."

Pain came from bruises on his body and a warm pull in his head made his eyes fall closed. Teyla shook his head, making him open them back slightly. He was so tired.

"John, talk to me. What did they want?"

"I don't think they like me," he whispered.

They had kept him awake all night, mostly shocking him, but hadn't asked for any information.

They had just had some fun with him.

"Have you seen Rodney and Ronon?" she asked.

He opened his eyes. "Ronon. In the mines. We were looking for Rodney."

John groaned when cold water ran over his wrist, and he tried to take his arm away. A firm grip kept it in place.

"Where's your cell?"

Staying awake was getting harder, but Teyla kept bringing him to awareness and shaking his head.

"Huh?"

"Where's your cell?" she asked softly but firmly.

"First block, by the mine," he whispered in a barely audible voice as his eyes drooped.

He felt the slow pull of sleep and heard Teyla's voice calling his name, but was unable to resist the exhaustion.

###

TBC…


	6. Chapter 6

bTitle:/b Foreign Concepts

bAuthor:/b lj user="x-erikah-x"

bRating:/b PG-13

bWarnings:/b Violence and torture

bWord Count:/b ~26,000 in 11 chapters

bGenre:/b Gen, H/C, Action, team friendship

bCharacters:/b John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Teyla Emmagan, Ronon Dex and other cameos

bSpoilers:/b Set at the end of season five, but no specific spoilers

bDisclaimer:/b Stargate and its characters belong to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Inc. No infringements of rights is intented.

bBeta:/b Many thanks to lj user="wildcat88". All remaining mistakes are mine.

bAuthor's Note:/b The full fic has 11 chapters, all finished and edited. I'll post daily until it's finished.

bSummary:/b When the team first arrives on Milania, they are impressed with their level of accomplishment. The feeling soon fades when they discover how deep their xenophobia goes.

**Chapter 6**

Teyla tried to sleep in the silence of the night as she lay in her bed staring at the ceiling. She had been unable to rest ever since the guards had come to drag John out, carrying him as if he was a bag of tava beans. She was comforted to have seen him and to know about Ronon, but she was also worried. John had been injured badly, with signs he had been mistreated for days. He had shown signs of torture and was unable to tell how he got them or why. He had been too tired and in too much pain for that. She swallowed the lump in her throat, hoping that Ronon and Rodney were all right.

At least now she knew which building John's cell was in. If they chose to do something, they would have to know each other's location. If she could get to the mines, where most likely all the men were sent, then they would be able to coordinate plans and positions in order to escape. She didn't know why Atlantis still hadn't sent help; they must have had problems locating them. Teyla didn't think John could afford to wait for long, knowing how the guards were treating him.

The longer they took to act, the less likely it was that they would be successful. She only needed to wait until she got the water duty in the mines.

center###/center

A far away cry made Rodney turn to the side on his bed and stare at the wall. He had fallen asleep right away when he had touched his bed, but had awakened too early and couldn't go to sleep anymore. He ignored the distant screaming that came from time to time and tried to focus on his plan.

It was stupid and risky, but it was his only chance. Atlantis still hadn't come which meant that they were having problems finding them. It was up to Rodney to do something. The guards were stupid enough to leave him with tools and parts without having the first clue as to what Rodney was doing. It would work.

Please, it had to work.

Seeing Ronon and having news about Sheppard was somewhat comforting, even if a little worrisome to know about Sheppard's disappearance. Somehow the news that Sheppard was being the most mistreated of them all didn't surprise Rodney that much. As bad as Rodney was with watching his mouth, Sheppard could be really annoying when he wanted. And Rodney figured that staying in that place would make Sheppard especially want to. Sheppard didn't sit well in seeing other people getting beat up.

Rodney would have to do something sooner rather than later. The ventilator would be their best bet, but it would all depend on what pieces and equipment Rodney would be able to gather. Maybe create a distraction and have the rest of the team there to fight their way out, but for that it would have to be one hell of a distraction.

Maybe it was stupid of him to try it, but it would be even more stupid to simply lower his head and nod i_'yes, sir'_/i to the guards for the rest of his life.

center###/center

Ronon stood up and tensed so much that he almost shook. Percle stood outside the cell, a smirk showing on his face. Ronon growled and launched at the bars, his arm reaching as far as it could, but still not even brushing Percle's pressed uniform.

"What did you do to him?" Ronon bellowed.

He stared at Percle's eyes, hatred filling Ronon. Percle's face went serious, then angry.

Percle gave one small step forward. "A little lesson for what happened at the mine. You continue with that behavior and he won't last long." He glanced at Sheppard's unconscious form on the floor of the corridor, two guards standing next to him.

Sheppard had bruises and lacerations on the side of his face, wrists and ankles and his clothes had stains of blood and dirt. Ronon imagined what those straps hid and snarled an ugly Satedan curse at Percle.

Percle smiled.

center###/center

Kirple shot up from behind his desk and glared at Dorr.

"Dorr, I will not allow you to go over i_my_/i authority and declare war on people who could be helping us through this internal crisis!"

"Do not forget, Kirple," Dorr started, his voice wavering with anger. "i_They_/i made the first move when they sent their reconnaissance team and then their machine right afterwards." Dorr stepped forward and leaned his knuckles on the desk. "And then i_you_/i were the one who allowed them into our capital. If there is anyone to blame for the political crisis, it is i_you_/i for letting that disease loose in our land."

"You well know the Lenans weren't the ones responsible for Red Vernon. You should blame i_your_/i secret lab."

Dorr leaned into Kirple's face. "I shall not blame my people for driving us into the future. A future that promises Milanian freedom from people like you."

"I will not repeat myself, Dorr. I will not tolerate unfounded threats."

"It is not a threat, Kirple." Dorr backed away and put his hands behind his back. "The people have spoken." He waved an arm to the door and his armed soldiers entered, guns drawn. "I have approved your official removal from office by popular demand as it is in our laws."

"I will not--"

"Resistance will be met by death, Kirple. Please, allow yourself one last act of dignity and step away."

center###/center

John groaned at the bright light penetrating his closed eyelids. He turned away and remembered his injuries when his temple touched the mattress, making the cut there sting. He held a hiss and inhaled sharply. A loud metallic bang made his eyes snap open and his heart race. Rough hands grabbed both of his arms and dragged him from the bed. He fell to the floor with a grunt when his legs failed to sustain him.

A kick connected to his side forcing John to curl around himself and groan. He braced himself for more, but instead, he felt the hands trying to get him up again. He opened his eyes and when he was released of their hold, he was glad to stay half upright. He lifted his head and saw them facing him angrily.

"Get in line!" one yelled.

John walked slowly out of his cell, both from defiance and pain. He hunched and limped, holding his stomach as he followed the prisoners to a new day of forced labor. Some of the men around him stared.

A middle aged man with dark gray hair glanced back. "What did you do to receive the special treatment?" he whispered.

"The only stupid thing I did was get ambushed," John responded louder than he was supposed to and received a glare from the guards watching from the far wall.

The man nodded and continued walking to the food table. John glanced around and poked the man's shoulder.

"Why are these people prisoners here?" he asked in a low voice.

The man didn't look back. "We're outsiders," he answered quickly then turned away, heading briskly to a far away table.

John thinned his lips. He had imagined something like that by looking at the prisoners' appearances. They didn't look like the people from the city the team had visited. The facial bones were less angular and the skin color slightly darker than the people that obviously spent their lives inside an office building. Most of the people in the prison were workers. John wondered what the Chancellor's participation was in this. Why would he invite the team to negotiate and bring the Lenans to his world? The only answer John was able to get from this was that the Chancellor was either too naive to know what was going on inside his own government or that he pretended not to know. What John knew for certain was that this prison looked too military to be run by bureaucrats. Percle seemed to be the man in charge.

John finished eating and glanced back at the pot of food at the edge of the room as his stomach still rumbled. He didn't see any men returning there for seconds and wondered if he should risk his luck like that. He grasped his empty bowl as his hand shook from the lack of food of the previous day.

Before John could make his decision, a strong grip on his shoulder forced him up from his chair. He looked around and saw that all the prisoners were already in line and that he was the only one still sitting. John swayed slightly from a wave of dizziness that hit when he rose to his feet. The guard holding his shoulder pushed him violently, making John stumble several steps before he recovered his footing to walk normally.

John got into line and walked slowly out of the room.

If mining with a few sore muscles and a few scratches on his wrists and ankles had been hard, now John found it almost impossible. He could barely walk without having his vision gray out from time to time. He didn't know if it was because he was too weak from the torture, from not eating much at all, or the concussion he probably got from having his brain kicked around. It was probably everything combined.

John sat down on the mine floor, resting his head back for a few moments before gathering strength to turn and start working. He had almost filled half a bucket when a small woman came to bring him water and more oatmeal for lunch. He dropped the rocks down before he took the cup with shaking hands and drank greedily. When he finished, way too quickly to make a dent in his starving stomach, he looked up at her. She swallowed visibly and glanced around. She knelt beside him and gave him another full cup of the broth.

He never would have thought that some alien porridge could taste quite so good. He wasted nothing, licking to the last drop and not letting anything leak from the sides of his mouth.

John smiled a thank you and she smiled back as she got up and headed for another corridor.

"Hey."

John snapped his head up and saw Ronon standing beside him.

Ronon knelt. "What happened to you?" he asked worriedly.

John hesitated answering the question.

"Sorry," Ronon said as he closed his eyes. "It's my fault."

John frowned. "How could it be your fault, big guy?"

"Percle said he would... you know, if I misbehaved." Ronon sat and looked down.

John shook his head. "Ronon, they are only doing that to control us. You know they would probably have done it regardless of anything you did." Ronon remained quiet. "The Nazi bastards take pleasure in seeing us like this. Don't fall for their crap."

Ronon lifted his head again. "Saw Rodney."

"Really?" John almost smiled. "How is he?"

Ronon smiled. "I heard him before I saw him. He's okay. Says he has a plan."

John smiled too. That was so Rodney.

"Did he elaborate?"

"Didn't have time. We only talked for a few seconds."

"Saw Teyla," John said after a few moments. "At least I think so." He frowned as he tried to think past the blur in his head.

"What do you mean, you think so?"

"Uh, I was more out of it than in, so can't be sure I didn't just dream it." John looked to the ground and grabbed a small pebble.

Silence stretched.

"You sure it's not my fault?" Ronon asked in a soft voice after a long moment.

John tapped Ronon's shoulder. "Yes. They know how to get under your skin. Don't feel guilty or they'll think they won."

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Another new day. Again, Teyla watched as the first light of dawn illuminated her cell with a yellow glow. She had slept more that she had been able to the previous nights and felt somewhat rested.

She needed to be well rested today. For a few days she had watched where the groups of women were taken and she noticed that her group would always go to the place the group from the adjacent corridor had gone the previous day. That group had gone to the mines yesterday. Which meant that Teyla would go there today. Hopefully, her team would be all there and she would be able to see them.

When the bars to her cell opened, she whispered a small prayer to the Ancestors.

center###/center

Shadows flickered and danced as the light from the weak lamp failed. It blinked several times when Rodney passed under it, making him stop to look at it. He felt the guard behind him halt and Rodney glanced back to see the ever present scowl.

"Uh, I'll have a look at it... It won't take any time at all."

Rodney stood on tiptoe and covered his hands with his sleeves to touch the lamp. He felt it unsteadily connected to the loose wiring and simply had to press them more tightly with the pliers from his set of primitive tools. The lamp immediately started to glow stronger, and Rodney sighed, relieved that he was able to avoid receiving a shock so far. Who in sane consciousness would leave all these loose wires around without any kind of protection?

Rodney felt a nudge on his back and promptly remembered he was supposed to be doing a check on all the ventilators of the mine instead of fixing lamps.

"All right, I'm going, I'm going..." Rodney was finding it increasingly hard to keep his voice low and respectful towards the guards. Maybe it was the full day without a beating that had him getting rebellious.

Rodney almost laughed at himself from thinking that. He also thought that maybe it didn't matter whether or not the guards liked the attitude. Rodney never cared about that. Why would he start now? Uh, maybe self-preservation. It would be wise to watch his language if that could get him electrocuted, or beaten down until his head cracked, or make his ribs puncture a lung, or until he had a heart attack from continuous abuse. Hmmm, on second thought, maybe it would be better not to get too loud around the guards.

Rodney arrived at the second ventilator of the day and checked the oil level. As he suspected, it needed changing.

Okay, who was he fooling?

It didn't really need changing. Leaving the stupid machine on for another day wouldn't make anyone suffocate, but it gave Rodney an excuse to not only show some work being done, but also to fiddle with it while looking for parts that wouldn't be missed but that would be of great value in overloading a baby like this.

Rodney rubbed his hands and started closing the main valve.

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TBC…


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Ronon growled as he glared at the guard's back. Beside him, Sheppard was slightly hunched, his face tight and dark as he shook his head. Ronon looked down at his arm, seeing the white knuckles of Sheppard's strong grip.

Ronon wanted to smash the bastard guard's face for what he had done. The man who had been unconscious next to them until a few seconds ago was now being taken away from the mines. Ronon shook with rage. It was only the sight of Sheppard curved and breathing fast from the exertion of keeping himself upright that kept Ronon at bay.

"C'mon, buddy." Sheppard shook his head toward the location they had been mining before the distraction had happened, and started walking slowly. "We need to finish these buckets in order to try to find Rodney again."

Ronon rumbled a response and followed. Sheppard sat down to mine the rocks close to the ground while Ronon stopped almost on top of him. He stood, half covering Sheppard's body to block the sight from any passing guards who didn't like seeing anything that resembled a form of rest. It had worked for the most part, but Sheppard had to stand up from time to time to allow some circulation to his legs.

He looked stronger now, as if he had slept for most of the night and had also eaten more than the usual share of porridge if the women had the opportunity to give him an extra helping. Sheppard didn't refuse unless he felt the presence of a guard threatening to pass closer. The women smiled and nodded politely, looking scared as they passed by the men watching. Sheppard followed them with the corner of his eyes until they managed to evade them unharmed. Ronon was just as subtle as he kept watch of his friend's condition. Ronon figured it wasn't as bad as it had been the day before because Sheppard no longer flexed his fingers and he appeared not to experience any more waves of dizziness.

Ronon tossed the last two chunks of mineral into Sheppard's bucket and earned a sudden glance from him as if he had been startled. Ronon cleared his throat to apologize and extended a hand to help Sheppard up. He groaned as he got to his feet but didn't waver when he finally stood. Each took his own bucket and followed the main corridor out of the mines.

###

John was very thankful Ronon was there to watch his back. Without his help filling buckets and shielding John's body from the passing guards, he would probably be in far worse shape. The way progress was going, he wasn't sure they would cover enough ground to find Rodney, if he was even in the mines, but John didn't want to separate from Ronon. Ronon wouldn't let him go anyway.

They dumped their rocks on the pile and turned around, eager to get back into the mine. John tried his best not to show his weakened state, and today that wasn't as hard as it had been before. His limbs no longer shook and his muscles felt more like cooperating with his will. He was still far from top shape, his chest hurt with each breath, and he was a lot more comfortable sitting down, or better yet, lying down, but at least he didn't walk like a drunk anymore.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned his head to see Ronon waving at an unused corridor. John had been in there before. It was a dead end with only a noisy machine at the end. He was about to open his mouth to speak when Ronon pulled his arm and led them both inside.

"Ronon?" He kept his voice barely below a whisper.

Ronon kept on walking. "This is where Rodney told me to go the other day."

"For what?"

Ronon turned his head briefly. "His plan."

###

Teyla stilled her breathing when she entered the warehouse. Several trucks were parked there and being loaded with crates while dirty men came and went through the opening at the far wall. The inside was dark and she couldn't distinguish the shapes moving inside as she peeked from the large deposit.

The group of women was led to a small room at the corner. Large bags of cereal were piled at the center and huge pans were on the tables on the corners. There was also a pile of small pots that had straps on them and a lot of cups next to them. The women promptly started working on the pans, filling them with water and Teyla went in to help.

After four large pans of broth were made, they started filling the smaller pots. When they were done, Teyla strapped one to her waist and followed Milin and Bina into the muddy descent of the mine.

"You can walk freely in the mines, but be careful," Milin whispered as she glanced around for guards. "Each man can get one serving. They cannot rest and we are not allowed to speak."

Teyla approached Milin's ear. "I need to find John."

Milin lowered her head as a guard passed by. Teyla fell behind, but soon caught up when there were no more guards.

"I will tell him you are here if I see him," Milin whispered as looked at Bina, who nodded.

Teyla gently squeezed their shoulders as a silent thank you and headed to the first corridor on the right. It would be easier to find her team if she followed a pattern.

center###/center

Rodney knelt down next to his favorite ventilator. He had purposely left this one for later so he could gather some more oil from around the mine and then spend as long as he could i_fixing_/i this problematic piece of equipment. He had oiled this ventilator poorly the last few days and now could see, and also hear, how it strained to work. It was the perfect excuse because he didn't need to lie about it being broken.

He shook his head. "I-I'll... uh..." Rodney closed his eyes and swallowed. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Th-this could take some time." He nodded. "It's...uh..." He waved at the machine.

The guard rolled his eyes and withdrew to the far wall.

"Right..." Rodney said before going to work.

He took a moment to stare at the ventilator. Rodney had collected wires, old used oil, a crude motherboard and a couple of combustion engine pieces. If he connected those to the right parts of the ventilator and if he had enough power, he could make something that would go boom. The oil would be a good fuel. He rubbed his hands and started the task.

He was halfway done when he got distracted by the scuff of footsteps right behind him. He swallowed and froze in place when they stopped. i_What if the guards noticed?_/i Rodney slowly turned back.

He nearly melted in relief when he saw Sheppard and Ronon standing by the wall right next to his back, mining silently.

Rodney glanced at the guard who was supposed to be watching him. He was staring at the ceiling and looking bored out of his skull. Rodney almost smiled in pride. He surreptitiously looked up at Sheppard who was also looking down at him, a smile forming in his lips. Sheppard looked tired and was slightly bent to one side with dried blood on the side of his head, under a crust of dirt and slime.

i_Are you okay?_/i Sheppard mouthed.

Rodney nodded frantically and glanced back at the guard. He turned to Sheppard. i_I have a plan_/i, he mouthed back.

i_What plan?_/i

i_A bomb._/i Rodney looked over his shoulder again. i_It's almost ready._/i

Sheppard raised an eyebrow. i_How long?_/i

Rodney put an open hand up. i_Five minutes. Then we need to go._/i Rodney moved his fingers back and forth in a walking motion.

i_What about Teyla?_/i

i_I haven't seen her._/i

"Water?"

Rodney jumped at the female voice. He turned around to look at who was responsible for nearly giving him a heart attack, and almost had another one when he saw Teyla. He squeaked out loud and covered his mouth to muffle the sound.

"Sure," Sheppard said casually. i_Are you okay?_/i

Teyla nodded and smiled. She dipped the cup into the porridge and gave it to Sheppard.

Before taking the cup, Sheppard looked at Rodney. i_Get to work!_/i

Rodney nodded and immersed himself in finishing his task.

center###/center

Ronon watched as Sheppard drank slowly then glanced at the single guard. Sheppard looked back and Ronon nodded, smiling. Ronon smirked, picked up his empty bucket and walked towards the man. After Ronon passed him, he dropped his bucket and wrapped an arm around the officer's neck. The guard choked in silence as Ronon squeezed more. Limbs batted blindly until they sagged and the man dropped unconscious.

Ronon searched the guard for weapons. He found a knife and gave it to Sheppard and left the rod with Teyla. He picked up the keys for the chains and freed his team.

"How long, Rodney?" Sheppard asked.

"Uh, just a minute."

Rodney worked swiftly under the stress, as Ronon had figured he would. Ronon walked a couple of meters ahead in the corridor to keep an eye for passing guards.

"C'mon, Rodney. We don't have all the time in the world," Sheppard hurried in whispers.

"I know!" Rodney responded in the same tone. "I just need..."

"Shhh." Ronon waved a hand at his team. He had seen a shadow in the distant light. "Someone's coming."

Ronon stepped back and helped Sheppard drag the unconscious body out of sight. They hurried to stand some distance away and turned back against the mine wall, pretending to work while Teyla gave some broth to Rodney. Ronon coiled as one guard passed behind him. In a quick motion that surprised Ronon, Sheppard turned around, grabbed the man's neck as he covered his mouth and stabbed him right in the heart. The man was dead in seconds.

"How much longer?" Sheppard asked in a low angry voice.

Rodney swallowed. "Almost there."

Ronon took the second baton and knife, giving the first to Rodney and keeping the second.

Rodney stood and nodded. "Okay, it's done. As soon as I press this valve, it'll start to overload. I don't know how long we'll have or how big it's going to be. It's all dumb luck."

Sheppard looked back at their corridor. "Great. Let's go!" He looked back at Rodney. "Don't hesitate before using that thing." He waved at the stick Rodney held tightly on his hand and received a frantic nod in response.

Ronon smiled as he felt the adrenaline flow. He paced ahead, knife firm in his hand, Sheppard closely behind him. Ronon stopped briefly at a curve and continued quickly ahead when the coast was clear. He slowed down when they got closer to the busier corridor, watching left and right for the guards. As he imagined, there were at least two groups. Ronon stepped back into the shadow as three guards came in their direction. He glanced at Sheppard and Teyla and the three of them nodded.

It happened fast. Ronon jumped from his concealment and grabbed the first officer across from his chest, stabbing his back. He turned around swiftly and elbowed Sheppard's guard in the chest as Teyla knocked hers unconscious with a well placed baton hit to his head.

The three other guards immediately started running to the team's position while prisoners either froze in place or ran away in panic. Ronon dashed out and met his opponent, blocking the rod waving toward him and piercing the side of the man's chest with the knife, kicking his legs at the same time. The man fell on his back and Ronon jumped on top of him, concentrating his weight on his knee and crushing several ribs before digging the blade into his neck.

He stood up and looked around, finding Sheppard struggling with a guard in hand-to-hand combat. Both men had lost their weapons and lunged at each other. Sheppard crashed against the wall and looked dazed as his assailant moved to attack again. Ronon ran and tackled the guard to the ground. The enemy kicked Ronon's weapon away in the wrestle that followed, but remained under Ronon's bigger body. Ronon punched his face several times, blood spilling out of the guard's mouth and nose until his eyes rolled back in his head.

When Ronon stood, Teyla had just finished with her adversary and Sheppard was clutching his side, supported against the wall.

"You okay?" Ronon asked.

Sheppard took a couple of breaths and nodded. "We have to keep going." He pushed himself away and started towards the entrance.

Ronon hurried to pass him and saw more guards ahead in the corridor, all of them busy fighting off the prisoners who decided to join the rebellion, while other workers simply ran off.

The team was able to pass by, hurrying the doubtful men along and helping the slower ones. They were making their way along the narrow corridor when they were slammed by a wave of people running from the mine. Ronon saw several people sliding on the muddy incline and falling back while he was pushed ahead. He forcefully slowed down to look for Rodney who had disappeared behind. Teyla was helping Sheppard and keeping him from falling from the horde that ran and screamed. Ronon made his way back and tripped on something that he immediately discovered to be Rodney crouched down, protecting his head as people passed through.

He helped Rodney up, who looked at him with a pair of very scared but thankful eyes. Both men waited for Sheppard and Teyla then kept an eye out for each other as they made their way out.

A loud rumble resonated from within the mines as dirt rained down on their heads and the ground started to shake. Another explosion came, followed by another one and everything turned dark.

center###/center


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

John opened his eyes and tried curling around his aching chest, but was unable to move. Everything was dark except for a small beam of light coming from far ahead. He looked around and saw himself half buried in earth and rocks. He coughed and groaned as his chest spiked with pain. After taking a deep breath, he tried pushing himself up using his elbows as support. His muscles let their misery show, but in the end he won the battle of stubbornness.

"Guys? You okay?" he asked.

John heard a moan that he soon discovered to be Rodney when he sat up from under a layer of brown and black dirt.

"That was bigger than I expected," Rodney said, a little short of breath.

Ronon groaned in response and Teyla appeared from under a pile of small rocks. John eyed her in concern.

"I am fine," she assured him. "We have to go before more guards come in," she said as she started getting up.

"Yeah." John hissed as he stood and swayed for a few moments until his hand found the wall. "Let's go," he said breathlessly.

John felt Ronon's hand supporting him and tried not to voice his pain when Ronon squeezed his bruised arm too hard. John climbed over debris in their path and looked back, seeing his team all up and looking fine except for the dirt and bruises. Some prisoners were also getting up, a few unhappy guards as well. John took the lead and followed the beam of light all the way out until he was in the warehouse.

The place was almost empty. Buckets, shovels and tools were abandoned while some injured workers cradled broken limbs and several guards took out their frustrations on the few unfortunate souls who had been unable to escape. John knelt down and touched the neck of a fallen guard, finding no pulse. Not feeling sorrow over the disfigured state of the man's face, John tapped his clothes and extracted his shocking rod and knife, giving the stick to Rodney and keeping the knife for himself since they had lost their previous weapons in the battle inside the mines. Shots came from outside, along with cries, shouts and yells, all getting closer to their position.

The team hurried along, but ran for cover when the ground erupted with weapons' fire. John hid behind a few crates and peeked to see armed soldiers entering the deposit and shooting the prisoners spilling from the mine.

"Take cover!" he yelled.

The running men threw themselves down and stopped coming from the small entrance while others panicked and ran in opposite directions. Some were armed with batons and raced towards the attackers.

"Oh, God! We're not going to make it!" Rodney cried from next to John.

John lowered his head to escape splinters coming from the blowing crates. "We just have to make it to a truck!"

"And how do you propose we do that?"

John exchanged looks with Ronon and Teyla then peeked around the corner of his cover. The soldiers were distracted, shooting at anything that moved and getting closer. John tightened his hold on the handle of the knife and waited for the guard to come nearer. John took a deep breath, then bolted up and threw the blade at the man's chest. The soldier fell motionless.

Ronon took that opportunity to dash out of his own cover and cross the distance to another pile of crates, picking up the guard's gun on the way and shooting before he jumped behind the protection of the wooden boxes. Ronon looked back at Sheppard before turning and shooting at the soldiers that were now alert to their danger.

Sheppard looked at Teyla and nodded. She nodded in return and darted from her own cover, going for another one farther ahead from Ronon's. John breathed in relief when she crouched down in safety and readied the knife Ronon had given her.

Ronon got up again to shoot and Sheppard nodded at Rodney. Rodney took a few deep breaths then raced as fast as he could to hide with Ronon.

John looked ahead, marking his path to join Teyla. He ran and crashed down behind his cover, wiping his sweaty forehead as he felt the high of adrenaline dull his aches and pains. He knelt and turned, watching as Ronon used his gun to open a path and run towards the closest vehicle. A soldier fell down on the way and Sheppard jerked his head towards the body when Teyla looked at him, ready to follow Ronon. Teyla nodded and raced from the cover, stopping to take the man's gun along the way. She rolled and halted by Ronon, not taking a breath before starting to shoot as well.

Rodney went next and crouched next to the truck's door. Rodney pressed his body against it and made the door open. Ronon ran to enter the vehicle, breaking the passenger window with bullets, then was followed by Teyla. John raced and crossed the distance to them, diving into the back of the weird car and crying out midair when he felt a hot prickle pierce his shoulder. He landed hard, breath knocked out of his lungs, and took a shaking hand to the source of pain. It came away wet and red.

Somehow the engine was started and they began moving. John took deep breaths as he pressed a hand against his wound, squeezing his eyes with the sharp pain. He gasped with the hard turns of the truck, his head bouncing and his chest tightening. He snapped his eyes open, a cry stuck inside him, when he hit his shoulder against the metal wall of the car. He wanted to cry out to his team, but they were busy shooting and getting to safety, the loud noises muffling the groans in the back seat.

"G-guys..."

His voice died at the back of his throat. He bit his lip, squeezing wet eyes, breathing deep through his nose and making his chest spike. He tried calling out again, but couldn't find an opportunity among his grunts and gasps. He took short shallow breaths, batting his hand around in the hope of hitting someone in the front seat.

"John!" came a strangled cry from Teyla. "John is hurt. Ronon?"

Teyla gave her gun to Ronon, jumped in the back seat and squeezed her body next to his. "When did it happen?"

John gasped when she touched the bullet wound, wanting to call out her name, but only managing a groan. He settled his breathing again, finding it hard to prevent the shallow and fast inhaling from his lungs. She pressed against his shoulder, making him want to curl around and away from her. He clenched his fists to keep himself still.

She touched his face and made him open his eyes. "I have to stop the bleeding, okay?" Her voice was shaky.

Pain and tiredness increased the delay in his response, but he nodded weakly. He let his eyes close and muffled a grunt when she raised his chest slightly to put pressure on the exit wound.

"What do you feel, John?"

John opened his eyes slightly. Teyla's even pressure had stabilized his pain which had already settled down when the truck had stopped bouncing so much.

"The shooting stopped," he managed to whisper.

She nodded. "Yes, we are on a road. They are not following us. We are safe."

"Good," he said as his eyes drooped.

"John?" Teyla shook him. "Just stay with us a bit longer. . . ."

Her voice slowly faded as he gave into sleep.

center###/center

Teyla finished dressing John's injury with a clean cloth she had found in the truck. She wished she had clean clothes for him to wear, but in the cold wind of the moving vehicle she would have to settle for the dirty prison uniform. It no longer looked plain and gray. It was ragged as if he'd worn it for years, torn open in several places and completely stained brown and black, with many spots of blood in between. She had taken off his shirt to clean the wound and seen the colorful state of his chest and abdomen. She'd had to feel his chest to look for possible fractures and felt her own chest constrict with John's soft moaning during his sleep. He looked tired and in pain even though he was supposed to be in peaceful rest.

She touched his forehead and pushed his hair aside. His face was damp, but his temperature was normal, a small blessing for which she thanked the Ancestors. His heartbeat was still fast, but it had improved slightly after his bleeding had stopped which meant he probably wasn't hemorrhaging internally.

Looking through the back glass, she saw the escaped prisoners who had managed to climb onto the rear of the truck. They looked weary and wide eyed, shaking in the cold wind of outside, but some had managed to fit themselves in between the few crates that were left. She saw only three women, none of them Milin or Bina. Teyla took a deep breath and hoped they were all right.

Many workers had fled the mines. Many had not. When the team had provoked the rebellion, most people had taken that opportunity to rise and fight, but some were too afraid and remained behind. The explosion had caused many cave-ins inside the mountain they had been working and people must have been trapped inside. She kept a small thread of hope that perhaps the escape of so many would spark something in the prisoners who had stayed behind and something else entirely different in the guards and the government that condoned that kind of place.

Those people were not criminals. It was sad to think that a world that had managed to advance so far technologically could be so cold and cruel. Fear of the Wraith was not an excuse for unfounded fear of other humans. One could not set all other worlds apart simply because they did not like the few worshipers in their midst. The unfairness of all that made Teyla tighten her jaw in anger.

"How is he?" Ronon's rough voice startled her from her thoughts.

Teyla turned to look at him. "He is still sleeping," she said softly. "The bleeding has stopped and he seems to have improved slightly."

"Any signs of--"

"No signs of fever, hypothermia or internal bleeding," she interrupted Rodney. "The bullet passed through the side of his chest, near his shoulder and exited on the side. I do not think it hit any major organs or arteries."

Ronon looked back and down at John. "Lucky shot."

Teyla nodded slightly. Indeed it could have been much worse.

"You call that being lucky?" Rodney asked. "Why is he still unconscious?"

"He was unwell to begin with, Rodney. He was badly mistreated by the guards, poorly fed, and probably wasn't sleeping through the nights." She touched Rodney's shoulder. "His body merely needs some rest."

"Does that mean he could get worse?"

"The wound could get infected," Ronon responded, gaining a glare from Teyla.

"We will not let that happen," she completed the thought.

Rodney nodded. "Good, because that wouldn't be good, especially if we can't escape."

"We have escaped," Ronon observed.

"I mean, there is only one road coming and going from that place. I have been driving here for several minutes. We'll encounter soldiers ahead any moment, you know."

Rodney was right. There were only trees and mountains around them, and only one way to go. Some of the prisoners on foot had gone into the forest, but the team had no idea where they were or where the stargate was. Without knowing why Atlantis had not rescued them yet, the team had few options to consider.

"This road has to lead somewhere, McKay."

Rodney waved a hand as he drove. "Yeah, and what about the guards?"

"We got guns," Ronon answered plainly.

"They've got guns too..."

Ronon turned to Rodney. "We got a truck."

"I'm pretty sure they also have vehicles."

"What would you rather us do, Rodney?" Teyla interrupted their quarrel. "We cannot go back, and we cannot stop here. The road is our only option. As long as we are alive, there is hope."

Banging on the back window made her look behind. She narrowed her eyes, then raised her weapon when she saw another truck filled with soldiers, approaching.

"We have a problem," she warned her teammates.

Ronon put his own gun out of his broken window. "Stay down, McKay." He put his head out. "Down, everyone, down!" he shouted at the people in the rear of the vehicle, then went back to the cover of the interior.

Teyla moved to the opposite side from Ronon's and opened her window. The pursuing truck approached fast and started firing at them. Teyla and Ronon fired back.

The escaped prisoners screamed and covered their heads, crouching as low as they could in the structure. The ground erupted with enemy fire and bullets pinged against the metal exterior. Teyla and Ronon returned fire in equal measure and smashed the opposing vehicle's front windshield. Some prisoners in the back had also gotten guns from the guards and started shooting as well.

"Ugh... crap!" Rodney yelled.

"Stay down, Rodney!" she shouted at him.

"How can I drive and avoid whizzing bullets at the same time?"

Glass rained on her head when the back window broke. She shielded her eyes and lowered her head, glancing back to check if John had been hit. His body was covered with small pieces of glass, but none appeared to have injured him. She crouched lower behind the seat and turned to fire through the now open rear.

"Oh, God! Teyla?" Rodney called.

"I am uninjured."

"Go for the tires!" Ronon suggested.

"What?" she asked.

"The tires!" he shouted. "I saw it in a movie!"

Teyla did as she was told and sighted down her weapon. The road was irregular, making her bounce on her seat and miss. She tried again, firing continuously for several moments. Eventually, one of them hit and the chasing truck swerved violently to the right, losing balance and crashing. She sighed in relief as she turned back to sit straight.

"Thank you, Ronon." She smiled.

"Yeah." Ronon grinned.

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	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Rodney pushed the brakes down slowly until the truck came to a complete stop. He had quickly gotten used to driving the weird vehicle after figuring out they weren't so different from Earth cars. They didn't go as fast, and the road was far from perfect, but it was certainly quicker than going on foot.

Rodney looked at left, then right, then ahead at the intersection. "So, what now?" he asked.

Ronon shrugged. "The trucks marks go ahead." He waved at the muddy road.

"We should stay away from the main road," Teyla said from behind him.

Rodney nodded. "It would be a lot easier if we had a map, you know."

"Just pick one side. More soldiers will come soon," Ronon urged him.

"I don't need to be reminded of that!" Rodney turned his head left and right again. "Look, there are fewer mountains that way." He waved, forming a semi circle going from from ahead to their left. "The city that has the gate didn't have any mountains." He looked back at his team.

It wasn't the most flawless conclusion, but it was the best they had. They could have been moved anywhere on the planet, if they were even on the same one. There was no reason to assume they were close to the gate, but they could only hope. Finally Ronon and Teyla must have seen the reasoning behind his idea, because they both nodded in turn.

"Okay," Rodney said as he started turning. "Left it is." He pressed the accelerator and started moving again.

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Ronon gripped the wheel tighter and growled in frustration over the thin rain that was blocking his view. He shifted his position, finding the cabin too low and the bench too close to the front. Driving that thing wasn't as hard as Ronon had imagined, but a lot more uncomfortable. It hadn't looked that way when Rodney had been driving, but exhaustion had won over and Rodney had to give up his driver position in order to rest. Ronon hadn't complained since Rodney had driven for almost five hours.

Even after driving for so long, the team hadn't encountered any resistance or signs of civilization other than the old muddy road. They had passed two more intersections, turning on both to make it harder for them to be followed. The rain would take care of covering their tracks and now they would only have to worry about possible search parties.

Ronon turned and saw Rodney sleeping next to him. Teyla had fallen asleep while watching over Sheppard who still hadn't woken up. It almost looked normal. It was like those Earth movies, when a family would go inside their car and drive for days to relax. They hardly ever managed to relax during the trip, but in the end everyone would fall asleep and cuddle around each other. Ronon wondered how close to reality those movies were. He hoped they were really close.

Another hour passed and Ronon was bored of seeing the same unending road surrounded by dark trees on both sides. The rain kept falling, looking like it would go on forever. Ronon looked back from time to time and saw that the prisoners in the rear were exposed to the weather, cold, shaking and hurt from the battle. Ronon decided to drive closer to the trees to offer some kind of protection.

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John drifted back from sleep, hearing a loud engine and feeling the vibrations of a moving car. He slowly opened his eyes and stared at a white ceiling which he didn't recognize. He turned his head and saw the back of a leather seat, realizing he was lying down in the back of a car. Supporting himself on his arms, he attempted to sit up, groaning when pain reminded him of what had happened. He pushed himself up and leaned against the closed window. Teyla was asleep sitting opposite him while Ronon was driving and Rodney appeared to be dozing in the front passenger seat.

"Ronon?" John coughed from the roughness of his own voice.

Ronon snapped his head around and a grin quickly appeared on his lips. "Hey. You okay?"

John nodded. "Yeah. I guess." He looked behind and saw the cargo area of the truck filled with prisoners. "What happened?"

"We escaped. You got hit."

John smiled slightly. "I kinda remember that part. Where are we?"

"Driving. I don't know."

"How long?"

"A lot." Ronon shrugged. "About ten hours."

"Ten? Wow. Been out for too long." John leaned his head back. He had just awakened and was feeling sleepy already.

"How you doing? Any pain?"

John groaned as he attempted to shift his position. "A little." He took a couple of deep breaths. "I'll live." John closed his eyes.

"Good."

"Uh... need anyone to take over the wheel?" John asked. If they had been driving for so long they would have to take shifts.

Ronon made a noise that could have been a laugh. "Not you." He looked back, smiling. "I'm okay."

"Anyone... anyone hurt?"

Ronon shook his head. "We're fine." He glanced back. "Don't worry about us, okay? Everything is under control so why don't you go back to sleep?"

John raised an eyebrow. "Don't like the company?"

Ronon chuckled. "Nah, you just worry too much."

"Well." John turned to look outside. "That's my job." The trees passed slowly and a faint breeze blew from the front window.

"I think you could use some time off."

John smiled. "Why only me?" he asked softly, but managing to be heard in the middle of the rumble of the truck and the clapping of rain.

"You're the worrier."

John blinked to get rid of sleep. "What about Rodney?"

"He vents." Ronon glanced at John. "You don't."

John remained silent. He knew he should probably have said something in return, but nothing came to mind. Instead, he watched the forest going and the rain drops hitting the ground.

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep again.

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Richard watched the blue glow reflecting on the gate room floor as Chuck dialed M6X-345 again. Richard's grip on the railing was loose, but the tightness in his chest wasn't. They had been dialing daily for almost a week. No response on any channel. The only MALP they had sent through had shown a square filled with soldiers for a second before being sprayed with bullets and shutting down. They couldn't risk sending a team under those conditions.

If they could use a jumper then things would be a lot easier. But the presence of a concrete building too close to the gate made that impossible. And now Richard had no other choice but to keep dialing in. At first it was hourly, then it went down to four times a day, then twice, and finally only once every twenty six hours.

"Nothing, sir," Chuck informed as he shook his head.

Richard sighed and nodded.

"How long until the Daedalus gets there?" he asked.

Chuck thinned his lips. "Another twelve hours, sir."

Richard nodded again and turned around. Another twelve hours of waiting until all their doubts and fears could find answers.

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Teyla rubbed the back of her neck as she drove. It had been several hours since they had started coming this way and they still hadn't encountered anything. The presence of a road indicated there must be something ahead, but they were all unsure of what it was.

More hours passed until Teyla saw the first sign of civilization. She shook Rodney's shoulder. He opened his eyes and looked around in confusion.

"Look." She pointed at the houses that started appearing at the distance.

Rodney sat up straight. "Hey," he called as he turned behind.

Teyla heard soft hushing of voices from the back of the truck as they got closer to what seemed to be a village. The buildings weren't tall and they were made of light brown bricks, all perfectly aligned and clean. They looked exactly how the Milanian houses were at the edge of the capital city, but situated in the middle of heavy forests instead of a growing city. Teyla slowed down as she entered a paved street.

It was night and the lights inside the houses were on, with no one on the outside. She saw moving shadows through the windows that were blocked by curtains.

"Should we stop?" she asked.

The people on the truck whispered and stared. Teyla knew that they were hungry and that they needed directions, but if these villagers were as xenophobic as the prisoners feared, it would be hard to get some help. Still, they could not drive without a destination forever.

"Do we know where we're heading?" John asked from behind.

"No," Rodney answered.

"Then yes, we should stop," John finished.

Rodney waved his hand around and turned. "But what if they alert the soldiers?"

"If they are gonna do that, it doesn't matter if we stop or not; they can see who we are even if we keep driving," Ronon said.

"Ronon's right." Teyla felt a tapping on her shoulder that she soon realized to be John.

"Stop near that building. It looks like some kind of store."

"What do you suppose we do?" Rodney glanced back at John.

"Well, we nicely ask for help."

"And if they don't, we got guns." Ronon raised his weapon.

"Which we won't use unless we have to," John reminded him.

Teyla slowed the vehicle until it stopped. They were next to a store selling canned products and fresh fruits. There was a family inside, looking at them through the glass.

Rodney opened his door and exited the truck, followed by Teyla, John and Ronon. Most prisoners remained in their places, but the ones who carried weapons got down as well. John went over to them.

"We won't need those." He waved at the guns. "We will try to get some food without resorting to violence first."

A middle aged man with gray hair and a scar on the side of his face scowled. "And they'll simply give it to us?" He spat on the pavement.

"We won't know until we try," John said slowly.

"And because they are so nice to us outsiders, they will gently turn over the food and send us on our way with the blessings of the Ancestors," another man, younger that the previous one, said as he raised his weapon to his shoulder.

Teyla stepped forward. "Do not give them reasons to hate you."

"We will i_first_/i ask nicely without shooting or threatening anyone," John announced firmly. When everyone remained silent, he turned and walked to the store.

The place was now empty and the people inside seemed to have slipped through the open back door in a hurry. The counter was empty and the boxes they had been carrying were down at the ground. Upon seeing it, the men waiting outside also entered and started picking up the food and taking it back to the others waiting in the truck. Teyla took a leather bag and started filling it while John walked around the counter and began going through the papers in the drawers.

"We don't have much time, kids, so hurry up," he said.

She watched him for a while, seeing the way he hunched and held his side. His face was tense with pain and his clean dressing was beginning to show a small red dot. He supported his weight on the wall and took a deep breath as he wiped his forehead.

"You should wait in the truck," she said.

He shook his head and didn't look up. "I'm okay for now. I'm just looking for a map or something."

She walked towards him. "You shouldn't strain yourself."

He finally stopped what he was doing and glanced at her. "I'm gonna sit here while I look then." He sat down at a bench with a drawer on his lap.

She moved away to continue with her task, but saw how he took a deep breath and held his chest.

A minute had passed when John got up from his seat with a paper on his hand.

"We have to go, can't stay around to be found." John pressed a hand on his shoulder. "I think I found a map." He waved the paper as he walked out.

The team followed and the men that had sat down to eat some fruits got up as well. They all entered the vehicle and Teyla drove them out of the village.

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	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Ronon shifted on his seat uncomfortably. The rain had finally stopped, but the pavement from the village had ended and was replaced by the soft mud of a whole night of drizzle. The truck slid sideways when he turned and he struggled to keep the thing going forward.

He hated driving.

"Why can't you drive, Rodney?" he growled.

"Because I'm navigating." He turned the big paper around and followed a line with his finger. "Someone's got to make sure we're going the right way."

"And are we?"

Rodney put the map down. "Yes. According to this, the main city of Milania should be right ahead. I imagine that the big red circle must be the stargate. At least the position of the streets and the distance to the capital seems right."

"How long?" Teyla asked.

Rodney shrugged. "Another hour."

Ronon groaned.

"You know," Rodney continued. "If we had stayed on that main road from the prison, we would have gotten there long ago."

"We would have been caught if we had stayed in that road," Teyla reminded him.

The next hour of driving was as painful and boring as all the previous ones, but finally they seemed to have arrived somewhere. The road was now paved and buildings could be seen in the distance, growing in size as they drove forward.

They entered the first street as indicated by Rodney and noticed the lack of activity. It was day and the sun was high, yet Ronon didn't see the activity that had been present when they had first arrived in that planet. Everything was completely deserted.

"Hmmm..." Rodney looked around. "Where's everyone?"

"This can't be good," Sheppard commented from the back seat.

Ronon continued ahead, the small brick constructions giving space to taller buildings the farther from the suburb they got, but still no sign of people. Ronon took his gun from the seat next to him and put it on his lap.

"How far to the gate?" Sheppard asked.

"Several blocks. We have to cross the city," Rodney said as he pointed at the map.

Ronon felt a tap on his shoulder. "Just drive fast, okay, buddy? This is looking too messed up," John said.

Ronon accelerated. "Got it."

He looked inside the big glass windows and saw all the offices empty. They passed some residential buildings and the curtains were all closed. There was no way to know if there was someone inside. He slowed down as he got near the center of the city then hit the brakes suddenly when he turned a corner.

The Government Building was surrounded by soldiers. Hundreds of them.

"Crap."

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John bent down when bullets started popping the metal exterior of the truck.

"Down, everyone!"

"God! I knew this was too good to be true!" Rodney shouted.

"Drive, Ronon!" John yelled above the roar of Teyla's and Ronon's weapons fire.

The truck accelerated again and made John crash to the back of his seat. He slid sideways and poked Ronon's shoulder, asking for his gun. John went back to his window and shot back at the battalion that was now running to their vehicles. He hissed when another window broke and showered him with glass.

He got up again to shoot, the recoil of the rapid fire make his shoulder spike with pain. The truck turned abruptly and John fell sideways on top of Teyla, groaning with the complaining bruises. He rose, firing two quick sprays of bullets and felt the dull click of an empty gun.

"Great!" he complained as he tossed the gun aside.

He looked at Teyla when she stopped shooting as well.

She shook her head. "No more bullets."

"Oh, God! We're not gonna make it!" Rodney cried out as he tried to stay low and failed when the truck did another sharp turn. "What are you doing?" he shouted. "The gate is that way!" He raised his hand in the direction they had been following.

The truck turned another corner and slid slightly to the left. John grunted when he hit the side of the car.

"We have to stay clear of their fire; we're out of bullets," Ronon growled as he tried to keep the vehicle steady.

He whipped around a corner again. The strategy was working and the chasing soldiers couldn't stay on the same street as the team for long enough to get a shot.

Another turn, more banging and sliding on the leather seat.

"Do you even know where you're going?" Rodney squeaked.

"Yes, McKay!" Ronon growled. "Just taking the long way around."

The truck slid on the pavement and the tires screeched.

"Look out, Ronon!" Teyla warned as a tall car appeared right beside them.

It appeared that the soldiers weren't as stupid as John wished and had noticed their little strategy. They were no longer trying to follow them and had decided to simply follow the main road.

Ronon turned away and changed his direction at the last minute, leaving the pursuers behind on the main road. He turned again and again, skipping a few turns and going for unpredictable.

"Left, left! You have to turn left, Ronon!" Rodney waved his hands madly.

"I know!" Ronon yelled with uncontrolled anger.

Ronon bent left and followed on a straight line, now going the right direction to the gate. The square started appearing right ahead, and John fell forward when the truck stopped suddenly and veered slightly to the left. John raised his head and saw the gate surrounded by a barricade of soldiers.

The prisoners in the back started climbing down and running for cover, firing their guns. John gave his team the signal and they exited as well, running behind the truck next to the scar-faced man from the village.

Scar Face rose from his position and fired at the nearest soldier, his bullets hitting home and downing the enemy. Another middle aged man made a run for it to try to grab the soldier's gun, but went down on the way, sprayed by a wave of bullets from a hidden opponent. Scar Face saw it and shot the attacker, injuring but not killing.

John exchanged looks with Scar Face and both nodded. Scar Face rose and fired at the enemy's position, giving John the opportunity to dive and grab the fallen weapon, going back to his previous position successfully. He nodded his thanks and started firing. Scar Face's bullets soon ran out, followed by the few other guns the prisoners kept, leaving John the only one armed.

The soldiers soon noticed it and started firing back in full force, opening their way towards the truck. John couldn't rise to fire and had to shoot blindly, hoping to hit something.

After a while, John heard Scar Face's rapid breathing and looked at him. Scar Face looked back, then eyed Ronon, nodded and dashed out, drawing fire away from the truck. John peeked over the fender and let loose a barrage of bullets, killing two soldiers. He looked at where Scar Face had run and saw his bloodied body in the street.

John turned back and glanced at his team, seeing Teyla holding a pair of knives. She adjusted her grip on the handles, not to use them to fight, but to throw. John nodded at her and rose from his position at the first opportunity. She rose as well and threw both knives. Two soldiers fell dead with blades through their hearts. John continued to shoot when the enemy ran from their exposed position, giving Ronon the opportunity to grab two guns from the nearby bodies. Ronon kept one and gave the other to Teyla, and both started shooting.

More soldiers fell. The team was defending from a point of advantage, surrounded by buildings and the truck, while the Milanians defended an open square. John hoped they could hold on for long enough to diminish the attackers down to a point when they could run and gain some ground. Ronon hit another one, lowering the soldiers' numbers to a handful. John pinpointed the location of each shooter and passed the positions to his team. He instructed Ronon to run to the next barricade while John and Teyla provided cover fire. Ronon nodded and prepared.

John and Teyla rose and shot at precise locations. Ronon made it to safety and started firing. John nodded and signaled Teyla to go while he and Ronon covered her. Next went Rodney and John stayed for last.

He crashed down at the new position, giving himself no time to think before going back to firing. He could see the square clearly now and realized the team wasn't far from the DHD. They all exchanged glances. Ronon pointed at six different locations and Teyla added another two. John agreed at the positions of the aggressors and and they all looked at Rodney.

"What?" he barely kept his tone to a whisper. "Why me?"

"Rodney, you have to trust us," Teyla begged.

"Oh, God!" Rodney closed his eyes momentarily then crouched and nodded. "Okay." He took a few deep breaths.

John joined Ronon who had already gone back to defending their position while Teyla shot in the opposite direction. Rodney ran and stopped behind the concrete building before continuing. John concentrated on his targets for a few moments, but failed to find Rodney the next time he looked up. Heart pounding, he skimmed the ground and saw the glimpse of feet rushing inside the small office. He tapped Ronon's shoulder and indicated the direction, mouthing Rodney's name as he did so. They both rose and ran to the building, slamming their backs against the concrete wall, one on each side.

John took a couple of deep breaths and nodded at Ronon before peeking inside. He saw nothing. He signaled Ronon to enter and followed.

He heard an electric buzz a moment before he hit the ground, unconscious.

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	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Teyla moaned as she opened her eyes. Numbness slowly faded from her extremities, leaving the sensation of ants climbing on her. As senses gradually came back to her, she found herself in a seated position and tied to a chair, her hands bound behind her.

She looked around. She was inside a dark room with a weak lamp on top and her team tied up to chairs, facing each other. Ronon was awake and pulling his binds, his face darkened with rage. Rodney was moaning as his head lolled on his chest and John was still unconscious.

A man walked into the light and stood in the middle of them. She recognized him as being their escort when they had first arrived in Milania. Percle.

He watched each one of them with scowl on his face. He stayed on John and approached his chair. Ronon growled, jumping and banging his chair on the floor, almost making it crash with him on top.

"What do you want from us?" Teyla asked slowly and serious.

Percle did not turn. He reached for John's face and lifted his head. It fell when Percle let go.

"Leave him alone," Ronon said, his voice full of anger.

Percle turned and walked near Ronon. "If you had behaved he wouldn't be in such a bad shape."

"I'm gonna kill you!" Ronon bellowed.

The officer stared. He turned around and walked towards John. She gasped in shock when Percle punched John's face, making his head roll on his neck limply. Ronon yelled and jerked.

Percle turned and walked around in a circle, staring at each one of them. Teyla glared at him, anger making her blood boil, and Ronon snarled promises of death and vengeance as their captor passed. Percle stopped in front of Rodney and pulled his head back by his hair.

Teyla heard Rodney's hard panting. "What do you want from us?" she repeated.

Percle did not respond. Instead, he let go of Rodney and extracted a rod from his clothes, making it spark against the chair. The metal frame sizzled and Rodney's head arched backwards in pain, his neck rigid and teeth pressed tightly against each other, muffling his voice as he screamed.

Teyla pulled her binds as Ronon thrashed in his chair. She felt her wrists burn as she tried to loosen the rope. The buzzing increased. Rodney yelled and Teyla felt blood trickling down her hands.

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Steven was sitting in the mess, an empty coffee mug on the table. He watched the blue hue of hyperspace through the window and wondered if there was anything as beautiful and boring at the same time. One day he would go crazy locked up in a spaceship like this. If it wasn't for the finest crew in two galaxies he probably would already have.

The scenario would change soon enough. He looked at his watch. It would be only another ten minutes until they arrived at M6X-345. As crazy as he was to have some action, he hoped the rescue wouldn't get too exciting. He also hoped it wouldn't have the result that he continued to leave only at the edge of his mind. It had been too long since they'd had news about Sheppard's team, but they had been missing for long periods before. They knew how to take care of each other and Sheppard was also one hell of a lucky guy.

Steven got up from his chair and headed for the bridge. The Atlantis database had very little about the planet other than its name, Milania. Steven had read Woolsey's report that said that their first MALP had detected a large concentration of people in a city surrounding the gate, supported by images. It was also reported normal but increased activity around the gate. The second MALP, however, worried Steven. It had been destroyed in a clear act of hostility and it indicated something must have happened to the team. The frozen frame immediately before its destruction showed something Steven knew too well. Barricades, soldiers, weapons, sandbags, barbed wire and armed soldiers prevented anyone or anything from coming through the stargate and that included puddle jumpers.

He could only hope they subcutaneous transmitters would still be working. They made very dull rescue missions, but Steven would rather have dull and successful than impressive and ineffective.

"Major Marks, what's our ETA?" he asked as he sat on his chair.

"We'll be coming out of hyperspace any moment now, sir."

Soon after Marks said that, the blue of hyperspace faded and was replaced by the blackness of normal space and a planet right ahead.

"Please, establish a geosynchronous orbit over the gate. I want to see what's down there."

"Yes, sir." Marks pressed several commands and watched his screen closely. "Sir, I'm reading ten life signs in the area surrounding the gate."

Steven narrowed his eyes. "Only ten? The MALP showed a hell of a lot more than that."

"Yes, sir. All other life signs in the city seems to be concentrated inside buildings and none of them moving a lot except for three around the gate."

"What about their subcutaneous transmitters?"

Marks shook his head. "No subcutaneous transmitters anywhere on the planet, sir."

The lack of subcutaneous signals could either mean that the team wasn't there or that the transmitters had stopped working. Steven shifted in his seat. The sudden lack of activity around the gate could be an indication that something must have happened to make the nearly thirty signs drop to ten. They needed to know what was going on on that planet.

Steven leaned forward. "Are i_all_/i of the lifesigns around the gate moving? What are their positions?"

"Six of them aren't moving. They seem to be inside a building."

Steven raised from his seat and leaned on Marks' console. "Is it possible to beam down a team of marines without them being noticed?"

Marks nodded. "Yes, sir."

Steven straightened. "Okay, instruct a team of marines to beam down with Wraith stunners to figure out what's going on around that gate. Tell them to stun any hostiles in the vicinity and to find Sheppard's team."

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Teyla watched as Ronon thrashed on the floor. Two soldiers were taking turns kicking and shocking him, even though the chair was still bound to his body. He fought back, spinning and turning, and managed to bend the legs of the chair in a way that it would not stay up anymore.

Teyla closed her eyes in order to concentrate on the rope binding her wrists.

"Stop," Percle said in a controlled tone, making the grunting and the struggling be replaced by silence.

Only one sound now reached her ears. Ronon was breathing hard through his teeth, enough to make Teyla know the rage he held in each exhale.

She controlled her breathing when her attempts to loosen the ropes started to have a little success. She bit her lip and opened her eyes, looking up at the ceiling to keep her focus behind her. She wanted to hiss from the lacerations she was making but she suppressed it. The bonds burned and broke her skin, making her hide a smile when she felt her hands moving more easily because of the blood.

Percle was saying something but she couldn't make out any of the words he whispered.

Teyla squeezed her eyes and twisted her hands around, closer and closer to pulling the larger part of her hand through. She gasped in surprise when her hand broke free. She removed the rest of rope and held it with both hands.

Opening her eyes, she directed her gaze to the soldiers around Ronon's chair, their backs facing her. She tried to twist her foot, but found it still tightly bound.

Percle moved away and walked to Rodney's unconscious form. Teyla took that opportunity to try to untie her legs. She bent low and lifted her face to watch as Percle grabbed Rodney's hair, gaining a few grunts from Ronon. Percle turned back to Ronon and Teyla hurried. At the first sign that the knot had loosened, Teyla moved to the other leg. Teyla looked at Ronon and noticed his brief glance at her, unnoticed by Percle. Ronon talked back at Percle, his loud and angry words distracting the officer. Teyla smiled and a few seconds later, both of her legs were free.

The guards who had been only watching Ronon so far, stepped towards him, ready to grab their pain sticks. Teyla rose and bolted ahead, grabbing her chair and bringing it up against both of their backs. She lowered her body and twisted around, dragging a leg under the soldiers to make them fall. One of them dropped his rod and Teyla rolled, grabbing it on the way and stopping by Percle. She didn't hesitate before using the stick and giving him the taste of his own torture.

One of the guards rose from the floor and she jerked around, kicking his head and knocking him unconscious. She kicked the other one as well, but fell on her back when her other foot was swept off the ground. Percle moved to grab her arms, but she was faster and got out from under him, reaching out to retake her weapon. He held her leg when she crawled away, forcing her to turn upwards, bringing her other leg along to kick him on the side. He grunted and took his knife, which she also kicked away. She jumped back to her feet and kicked him twice in the face, once on the chin, then again on his temple. He fell down, dazed, and slowly reached inside his suit.

She stepped forward to finish the job and cried out when he suddenly pulled a second knife from his back and stabbed her foot. He extracted the knife and was moving to strike again when he stopped, his body halfway up and the knife falling from his hand. She looked down and was surprised to see John crawling and dragging his chair behind Percle, a bloodied knife being pulled from her attacker's back. She looked at Percle as blood leaked out of his mouth, eyes frozen in shock as he slowly fell, his eyes finally sliding shut.

She breathed deep and blinked pain-filled eyes. Her foot failed to uphold her, and she crashed on the ground.

"Teyla."

She opened her eyes and saw John looking directly at her; his face was sweaty and he shook slightly. She bit her lip and inhaled to control herself.

"I am all right, John," she assured him.

She heard a noise outside the door and froze in place when it shot open, brightness blinding her. When her eyes adjusted, she saw five shadows moving swiftly inside and kneeling next to each of them. She smiled when she recognized their Earth uniforms.

"'Bout time," Ronon said as the marines secured the room.

center###/center

The first thing John noticed was a familiar and constant beeping noise. Then, he felt a cannula in his nose and decided the beeping must be coming from him. His senses were slower than usual, but he smiled when he realized that the disinfectant smell and this exact combination of sensations could only be coming from one place in the galaxy.

He slowly opened his eyes, taking his time to adjust the brightness.

"About time!"

The voice made John turn his head around to see Rodney on the bed next to his. He was half sitting, propped up by pillows and in white infirmary scrubs. John narrowed his eyes, trying to recall what had happened. The last thing he remembered was stabbing Percle's back, then failing to obey Teyla as she demanded him to stay conscious.

"What hap--?" he asked, his voice rough and making him cough. He cleared his throat and tried again. "What happened?"

"The Daedalus showed up," Ronon answered from a bed next to Rodney's. He leaned forward, finally showing his face from behind Rodney.

John nodded, his head melting on the pillow. He had been so out of it, exhaustion and all the injuries piling over each other, that he had no idea how he had been able to remain conscious for long enough to twist his hand out of his bonds, let alone act on a scene he'd had almost no time to register.

"Are you okay?" Rodney asked.

John remained at the same position, looking up at the ceiling.

"Are you in pain, John?" Teyla's voice came from near him and made his head turn to look at her. She was also sitting on a bed, surrounded by a fluffy pile of pillows, Torren in her arms. "We were worried. Of all of us, you are the one that was most affected by injuries."

John smiled and nodded. "I'm fine." His team was safe and okay, so he was also. "How long has it been?"

"A little over a day," Ronon answered.

John tried to sit up to have a better look at his team, but was prevented when his side twinged slightly.

"Why so long?" he asked, a little short of breath.

"Hmmm." Rodney turned around slightly towards him. "You had a bout of fever and would have had a bad infection if we hadn't gotten home when we did." He smiled. "Luckily, our antibiotics work wonders against Milanian bacteria."

John smiled. "Lucky. What about you guys?"

"Ah." Rodney pointed a finger up. "I've got a bunch of scrapes and bruises, not to mention burn marks from those horrible torture devices, but considering everything and looking at your condition, Sheppard, I guess I'm pretty good." He nodded.

John laughed.

"I got nothin'. Don't even know why they are keeping me." Ronon waved an arm at himself and grinned.

John raised an unbelieving eyebrow. "Really?"

"Ronon had two broken ribs and several cuts and bruises as well," Teyla said.

"Ah, that was nothing. Had a lot worse." Ronon sat on the middle of his bed and bent his legs.

John turned to Teyla.

Teyla turned her attention away from a playful Torren and looked at John. "Except for a deep cut on my foot that seems not to have made any serious damage, I'm perfectly fine," she said as she bowed her head slightly. "But it seems I will be several days without being able to walk." She turned her head away from Torren as he tried to pull her hair.

John nodded and let silence fall.

"Are you okay?" Rodney asked after a few seconds.

"Huh?" John turned to Rodney.

Rodney narrowed his eyes. "You haven't spoken much."

John shrugged. "I'm okay." He breathed deep. "It's just that..."

"Just what?" Rodney urged him with a waving hand.

"I... just wish I had seen how everything turned out in the end." John exhaled and made a conscious effort to look at their eyes.

"That's it?" Rodney asked.

John shrugged. "Yeah."

Rodney chuckled. "What's up with you and being in control the whole time?" He raised a hand. "We are okay, everything was under control and Teyla even managed to escape on her own." He shook his head. "You don't need to keep your eyes on us the entire time, you know. We are perfectly capable of taking care of things while you are busy passing out."

"Yes, John. You don't need to feel bad about anything that happened."

John nodded. He had all the faith in the world in his team. He always had and always would, but they were the closest thing to family that he had and he felt like he should have been there for them. If anything ever happened to any of them, it would be John's fault. He wouldn't be able to live with the guilt of it.

"Yeah, you're right." He tried to smile.

They had escaped the prison. They had worked together even though they had been put in separate blocks and had managed to provoke a rebellion even without sharing their plans. All because they already knew it. No words and no planning had been needed.

His smile finally warmed his face. "We are a team. We work together." He looked up at them.

"You're damn right we are." Rodney nodded firmly.

"We should do something," Teyla said. "To celebrate family and friends." She looked at each one of them. "What do you think?"

"Yeah, I'm in if it involves food." Ronon threw a hand up.

Rodney's eyebrows shot up. "Me too." He also raised a hand.

John grinned. "I guess it's settled, then. We should have a party."

center###/center

John held his side as he jumped out of his bed. He walked near the table and picked a bowl of jello. All blue. Rodney must have been in charge of this part. He was quietly returning, hoping no one would catch him, when he heard Keller clearing her throat behind him. He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to her, smiling sheepishly.

"I was kinda hoping no one would see. You most of all." He pointed his finger at her, hoping an honest and lighthearted approach would ease her wrath.

By the way she was tapping her foot, he was thinking it hadn't worked. He winced and resumed his way back to bed.

"You could have asked, you know," she said as she walked over to check on him.

"What's the fun in that?"

"I told you," Teyla said while sitting up and turning to face him, the finger she had over the call button showing who had betrayed him.

He shook his head. "I thought this was a party to commemorate team, friends and family. This means no stabbing teammates, friends and family on the back."

"Who's stabbing whom?" Rodney asked as he entered the infirmary.

"I was merely worried you would fall from bed," Teyla said in a slow and calculated tone.

John directed an unbelieving eye at her.

"So," Rodney said as he rubbed his hands. "Where's Ronon with the rest of the food?" He looked around.

"Here." Ronon entered carrying two trays, one with a huge pile of sandwiches and the other with a big mountain of popcorn in a large bowl.

He placed both down on the table that had been brought to the infirmary and gained a yum of approval from Teyla.

"Okay." Rodney rubbed his hands. "Since we are all here, let's start eating." He grinned and grabbed two packages of sandwiches.

"Other guests were invited, you know..." Keller elbowed Rodney lightly on his stomach.

"I mean, the important guests are already here," he said with a mouth full.

John grinned and dipped a spoon into his jello.

"Ronon?" Teyla asked, her eyes big and glancing at the popcorn.

Ronon took the entire bowl and put it on her lap.

"Hey!" Rodney protested. "We are supposed to share!"

"I brought it for her." Ronon crossed his arms.

Rodney opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Teyla.

"I can share." She waved her hand at the big white and yellow mountain.

Rodney walked over to her and grabbed a hand full of popcorn while holding his other sandwich under his arm.

"This is supposed to be about team, friends and family. Meaning, no stabbing each other's backs," Rodney repeated John's words.

Woolsey entered the room and walked over to them. "I see you have started without me."

"Rodney has." John waved his spoon at Rodney. When everyone eyed him and the pot of jello he was eating, he continued. "I was just hungry."

They laughed. John decided to ignore them and continued eating.

"Am I late for the party?" Lorne asked from the doorway.

"By all means." Woolsey waved him in.

Lorne entered, followed by Zelenka, both men carrying the helium balloons they had reserved for Torren's first birthday. Chuck and Amelia came in right behind and settled bottles of drink on the table. The team all looked at the colorful circles that floated over Lorne's and Zelenka's heads.

"It's a party, isn't it? A party needs balloons," Lorne explained and tied the strings on Teyla's bed.

Zelenka did the same on John's and soon soft chatting started.

After a few moments, a loud gasp came from the entrance, making everyone snap their heads around. Torren stood at Kanaan's feet, eyes wide, marveling at the colors floating by his mom's bed. Teyla laughed.

"Come, Torren." She waved her arms.

Torren walked to her in small unsteady steps, closely watched by his father.

"Ma." Torren opened his arms, asking to be held. Teyla picked him up, much to his delight, and waved him around to make him laugh.

Kanaan smiled proudly and everyone laughed. Jennifer held Rodney's hand and both smiled warmly at each other while Woolsey moved closer to Lorne to ask about daily reports. John saw the stray look his second in command gave him, as if begging for rescue. John smiled and shrugged, turning his head back to Keller to show he was still off duty.

The afternoon was over before John had the chance to realize how much he had laughed, eaten and talked. He settled his head down on his pillow as night crawled in, a smile on his lips showing how much he had enjoyed his time with his team and friends.

His family.

centerb**The End**/b/center


End file.
